Something To Believe In
by MishaMuse
Summary: Part two, following Dirty Deeds. With the events of Wrestlemania 26 still fresh in Team Adorkable's mind and the Draft looming, can Punk find a way out of the nightmare his life is quickly becoming? MC: Punk
1. The Morning After

A/N: This is the sequel to Dirty Deeds, with Punk as the POV character.

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 1: The Morning After

Michelle McCool was trouble. I should've seen it coming from a mile away. We'd known each other for a number of years, and up until she came to me for help with Matt Hardy, we'd been friendly but not exactly friends. I enjoyed annoying her, mainly because it was easy to do. But then she came to me with that story about Layla betting her she couldn't win Hardy's heart, and I was the only remotely nice guy she knew and… Well, you probably know how that turned out.

The thing is, Michelle has always been a shallow girl who cares more about herself and having fun than those around her. She's not someone I could ever see myself spending time with. Until Hardy, that is. Then she was a different person. He was good for her in a way that none of her friends ever had been. I find it weird that, despite everything I ever said to her to try and get her to change, it took someone like him…

He's not as bad as I'd originally thought, even if he did break her heart. She'd originally planned to do the same to him, so it's not like I can entirely blame him for what happened, is it? But still, it's as much my fault for getting involved in this mess in the first place as it is anyone else's. Maybe more, since she trusted me. It's my fault she's miserable and it's making me miserable.

%

"Michelle?"

"Hmm?"

"You should probably eat that instead of shoving it around your plate."

She sighs and pushes the plate away. It's the morning after Wrestlemania and I've managed to drag her from her hotel room with threats that I'll carry her if she doesn't come quietly. "Sorry. I'm not hungry." She sips her coffee. "My stomach hurts."

"Probably because you haven't eaten." I push the plate back toward her.

"It's cold."

"It wouldn't have been, if you'd eaten it twenty minutes ago." I expect her to snap at me, or show some other sign of life, but she shrugs. "I'd like to beat the hell out of that guy."

"Why?" she asks, finally looking at me. Her eyes are red rimmed. She hasn't bothered with make up or glasses or anything else. Her hair is a mess, and her clothes are rumpled, like she slept in them. "I got what I deserved."

It's been like this all morning. I can't get a reaction, other than this sad defeat. "I wish you'd stop that," I say, feeling my irritation kick in. "He's not worth the pain you're putting yourself through, McCool." I desperately want distance from this girl, the one who is sitting there, looking like she's been through the ringer. She's not the flawless diva I know and love.

"I'm the one that's not worth it."

I look down at my own plate. Truthfully, I've barely eaten more than she has. I can't stand to see the pain in her eyes. "Please tell me you're not going to be this mopey all the way to Vegas, otherwise it's going to be a long drive."

She looks at me, startled. "I forgot."

"You forgot what?"

"About Vegas." She shakes her head, and I can see the tears in her eyes. Quietly, I hand her my napkin. "I have no idea how I'm going to get there. I guess I could ask Layla."

"Already worked out," I tell her. "You're riding with me today."

"Oh." She blinks. "You're a good friend, Punk."

Her words are like a kick in the gut, but I smile at her, anyway. "Do you need my help packing today?"

"No, I'll manage. Thanks." She uses her fork to push the eggs around on her plate. "What do Gallows and Serena think of me riding with you guys?"

"They're on their own," I say.

She looks up at me. "What?"

"Gallows told me last night that he and Serena were renting a car. I took them over this morning to pick it up."

"Oh." Her brow furrows. "Just you and me, then?"

"Yep." She nods, but doesn't say anything. "Is that okay?"

"Sure," she says. "But what about Gallows? I thought he was plotting against you with Serena."

"He undoubtedly is."

"Then maybe you ought to ride with them, keep him from planning anything?"

"I'm safer with you," I tell her, even though it's not strictly the truth. "Besides, if I ride with them, how are you getting to Vegas? You're not going to drive, Michelle. Especially not alone."

She sighs and pushes the plate away again. I nudge it to the edge of the table and set mine on top of it. "I'm fine."

"You're miserable."

"Wouldn't you be?" she snaps. It's the first sign of life I've seen all day. "I finally fall in love and it backfires. He hates me because I betrayed him." Then, the spark fades. "He's right to hate me. I hate myself right now."

"Okay, you can mope in the restaurant and the hotel, but once we're on the road, it has to stop."

"I can't just turn off how I feel, Punk." Her eyes are luminous with tears.

I don't know this Michelle at all. I want my friend back.


	2. Primal Screams

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 2: Primal Screams

I help Michelle put her bags into the back of the car. My stuff's already back there, so we squeeze it all in and end up with a couple of bags in the backseat, as well. "You don't pack light, do you?"

"It's Wrestlemania. No one packs light for that." she says, and for a brief moment, I see a glimmer of the old Michelle. Then she sighs and slides into the passenger seat.

Once we're on the road, she starts playing with the radio buttons listlessly. She's driving me crazy, but at least she seems interested in something. "What's wrong with that one?" I ask, when she passes a station with something I recognize.

Michelle rolls her eyes at me. "Please. It's just screaming."

I feel like screaming, at this point. "It's good screaming, though. You should try it sometime."

"Huh." She frowns at the radio. Then she lets out a horrible, blood curdling scream. I swerve, totally unprepared. I guess I should have known better. Michelle smirks at me. "You're right; I feel better. Thanks."

"Next time, some warning would be nice." My heart is pounding, and I feel like I'm shaking, but she's actually smiling.

"Sorry."

"You are not!"

Michelle laughs. "Okay, I'm not sorry."

I smile at her. "So there's nothing good on the radio, huh?"

"Lucky for you, I brought a CD." She gives me an impish grin and slides a CD into the player. "Made it the other day, just for you."

"Oh?" I glance down at the CD player and wait to see what she's got on there.

"Mm hmm." She looks smug as the sounds of the CD fill the car.

"Uh, what is it?"

"Paralyzer by Finger Eleven." And once she starts singing the words, I know why she's smirking.

"A drinking song? Seriously?" I ask with a groan.

"Oh, not just one, Cuddle Monkey! It's a whole CD of songs to make you feel like you're in a smoky bar."

"That's cruel and unusual punishment." I still sling an arm over her shoulder for a brief hug, though; she did call me Cuddle Monkey. Who knew that the nickname I'd so despised when she gave it to me would make me so happy? It meant that she was feeling better.

"Well, I'm a cruel woman." Ah, crap. Her expression falters.

"Um, so what other songs are on there? Anything I might actually know?"

"Margaritaville?"

"You put Jimmy Buffet on there?" I make a face at her. "And we're headed to Vegas, where there's actually a Margaritaville. Nice."

She bites her lip. "I wasn't thinking about Vegas when I made it. I just thought the CD would be funny."

"Because it goes against everything I believe in? It's hilarious."

She looks out the window. "Yeah. I guess it is."

I don't know what else to do, so I let the CD play. She's staring out at the desert, thinking God knows what, and I've got no idea how to fix this. Maybe I should have let Layla deal with the depression side of things, but I'd been hoping that she'd be happy to be with someone she could tease. Wait, that doesn't sound right. I was hoping that our friendship would help pull her out of it. No, that's not it, either. Okay, I don't know what I was hoping for. That she would find some comfort in my presence, perhaps? That sounds egotistical, and I don't mean it to.

As I'm thinking these thoughts, she picks up a CD at random and changes it into the CD player. It's one of mine. "You didn't have to change it, sunshine."

Michelle shrugs. "Felt like it."

I sigh and turn the music down so that it's nothing but background noise. "Michelle…"

She turns to look at me, her face serious. "You never used to call me Michelle. It was always McCool or sunshine."

"Sometimes I'd call you Michelle."

"Not very often," she says. "In fact, I remember the first time. The three of us were in the car."

I don't want her to think about it. "Okay. But what I was going to say was that you can listen to whatever you want. I don't really care what we listen to."

She drops the drinking music CD into the floorboard and shrugs. "It's fine. I shouldn't mock you."

"If you don't mock me, you won't be you."

"Good."

I sigh. "I don't want you to change who you are."

"Why not?" she asks. "I'm not a good person."

"Maybe we should go back to screaming."

She shoots me a look, though I can't tell if she's amused or annoyed. "You didn't like it when I screamed."

"It would have been fine, had you warned me." I smirk. "Want me to pull over and we can see if we can scream in unison?"

"Wow, Punk. What a weird question." She frowns. "Is that what you do for fun? Pull the car over and make the straightedge society scream in unison?"

"No," I say, in my best mournful voice. "Luke sucks at screaming in unison."

She blinks. "Um, I think that was way too much information, but thanks."

"Geez, McCool," I mutter. "I didn't mean it like that."

She gave me a ghost of a smile. "I know. That's why it was so funny."

I swear, she's going to be the death of me.


	3. Clubbing

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 3: Clubbing

We've got a full day before we have to be on set for the Smackdown taping. I drive us to the hotel and bring the bags up like a good porter, then leave Michelle to hang out with Layla, who arrived sometime before we did. Probably because she didn't have to pull over and scream a lot, but who knows? Maybe she did. Anyway, she's there before we are, and I leave her and Michelle together, figuring they'll want to hang out without me cramping their style, anyway. I hit the gym, then make it an early night. There's not a lot to do in Vegas when you're straightedge.

I'm asleep when the pounding on my door starts. "What the hell?" I mutter, dragging myself up from sleep. I'd been dreaming about the championship again; it's embarrassing how often that dream comes up. I check the peephole and see Layla leaning against the wall. It takes a minute for me to disengage the lock. "Layla?"

"Is Michelle in there with you?" she asks. She's breathing fumes that could set the curtains on fire.

"Ugh." I wave off the toxic smell. "No. Why would McCool be here?"

"I dunno," she said. "I can't find her."

For a moment, my heart stops. A city like this one, so many horrible things can happen to a woman alone. Especially if she's been drinking. "Did you check your room?"

"Yup." She pauses and stares up at me, drunkenly. "She said she wanted to learn to fly."

"That can't be good," I say. "Give me a minute, and we'll go find her." I close the door and grab the nearest clothes I can find. It happens to be one of my ring shirts and a pair of jeans. When I open the door, Layla blinks at me.

"Oh, hey, you know who you look like?" she says. "C. M. Punk."

"Imagine that." I want to snap at her, but I can't. She's the only link I have to Michelle. "Where did you last see McCool?"

"Michelle?" she asks, peering up at me. "Isn't she with you?"

"No. Where did you go, Layla?"

"The club." She points at the ceiling.

I wince. Of all the places I want to be right now, some club is next to last on that list. "Fine. Let's go."

Layla doesn't argue. She leads me on a drunken, winding path through the corridor, to the elevator. I have to push the button for her, since she keeps missing it. When the doors of the elevator open, we're in a long hallway that has a muffled beat at the end of it. I follow Layla back to the club, and she falls into the security guy like they're old friends. "Tony!"

"I thought you left," he says, looking between the two of us with distaste.

"We're looking for our friend," I tell him.

"The blonde?"

"Yeah."

"Hey, man, she hasn't come out that I've seen."

"Great," I say, relieved that she's at least in an enclosed area. "I need to get her."

Tony looks at my shirt and smirks. "Yeah? You're going in there?"

I sigh. "Yes."

He chuckles and pulls the door back. "Good luck." Layla starts to follow me. "Nuh uh, missy. You stay here."

I can hear Layla's loud protests as I step through the doorway into the darkness. It's loud and hot and really uncomfortably crowded in here, and I don't have the faintest idea where to start looking for Michelle. I settle for trying to wade through the mass of humanity, craning my neck and scanning the corners for a flash of blonde hair. It's not a great system, but it eventually pays off. I see her, head down on a table, surrounded by guys. I push through the crowd and stop next to the table. "Michelle."

She barely raises her head. "Wha?" I see her blinking, trying to get her eyes to focus.

"Time to go."

"Hey," one of the guys says, "she's not going anywhere."

"I think she is," I say, pushing past him to help Michelle to her feet.

"Culkey," Michelle says. She leans against me, so that I have to put my arms around her to keep her upright.

The guys at the table stand up. There are four of them. Under normal circumstances, I'd say the odds were not completely against me. But with my arms around Michelle, trying to keep us both balanced? I am so screwed. "Sunshine," I mutter, "you're going to have to stand on your own two feet."

"Can't," she says, so I turn and try to drag her toward the door. It's then that one of the guys punches me in the back. I won't lie; it hurt. I nearly drop her, but I manage to push into the crowd, away from them. I can hear them trying to follow, but I keep my head down over hers, and eventually, we make it to the door. Layla is still arguing with Tony.

"Layla!" I snap. "Come help me."

She gives me a disgusted look and turns back to the doorman. "But I want back in! Don't you know who I am?"

"Don't know, don't care," Tony says. He's studying Michelle and I with interest. "What floor you going to?" he asks me.

"Ten."

Tony nods and gets on his radio. "I need a guest escort to the club. Better make it two." He pulls Layla back from the door. "I gotta say, you're a brave man, going in after your girlfriend like that."

"Thanks," I mutter, "but she's not my girlfriend."

Tony doesn't look like he believes me. With the way I've got her hanging on me, I'm not sure I'd believe me either in his shoes. "I don't feel good," Michelle moans, right before she throws up on me.

I turn my head, praying that I won't throw up, too. That's when the guest escort arrives. They take one look at me and Michelle, then turn to Tony. "Who's the drunkest?"

"I think he's sober," Tony says, indicating me. "She's the drunk." I let them take Michelle from me, and as soon as she's not pressed against me, I peel the shirt off and toss it in a nearby trashcan. At least I might make it to my room without getting sick this way, even if they're all staring at me. One of the guys ropes Layla in as she tries one more time to get into the club. Tony smirks at me. "Looks like you've got your hands full tonight, my friend. Good luck with it."

"Yeah, thanks," I mutter, following the security guys into the elevator.


	4. Sleep It Off

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 4: Sleep It Off

There's no way I'm leaving Michelle alone in her room with Layla. I'm not sharing this trip, luckily, and there's a second queen bed in the room. I make Layla get Michelle into a clean ring shirt, then I put her into the spare bed. Layla sees herself out after Michelle's in the bed. I throw on a shirt and some sweats, fall onto my own bed, exhausted, and hope that I'll be able to sleep through til morning.

In retrospect, I should have realized how it would look to Michelle in the morning when she woke, hung over, in a strange bed, wearing my shirt. "Oh my God," she moans. I'm instantly awake because, let's face it, someone who shouldn't be is in my room.

"Michelle?"

She blinks blearily at me as I sit up. "Punk?"

"You look like hell."

"Gee, thanks." She closes her eyes. "Where are we?"

"Vegas."

"Ungh." She pulls in a shallow breath. "I don't remember anything, and it hurts to try."

"Serves you right," I say, and she opens one eye.

"Smug is not a good look on you."

"Yes, it is," I say, grinning.

"Ugh. Well, not from here, it isn't. Can you tell me what happened and why I'm…" She pauses, lifts the blanket, then pulls her gaze back up to me, "dressed in my underwear and one of your shirts. Oh my God!" She winces at the sound of her own voice. I don't blame her; the shriek also makes me wince. "Did we… do something last night?"

"If you want to call you throwing up all over me 'doing something', then yes. Otherwise, no. I had Layla help you into that shirt and then I put you into bed."

"Oh. Um. So my clothes are…"

"Soaking, although you'd be better off burning them. That was foul, McCool."

"I'll take your word for it. I don't think I've ever been that drunk in all my life." She falls back on the bed, eyes closed. "I feel like a truck is running over my head. Remind me never to do that again."

"Gladly."

"Forgot who I was talking to," she mutters. "Uh, what day is it?"

"Tuesday. We've got a taping tonight."

"Oh my God," she moans. "I'd have to get better to die."

"I suggest you work on that, then." I drop the spare room key on the bedside table, which makes her moan in pain. "Sleep it off, sunshine. Try not to throw up on anything that needs to be laundered. I'll hang out the do not disturb sign and let you be."

"You're leaving me alone in your room?"

"Yeah. You need sleep, and I need to go to the gym." I grab the "Do Not Disturb" sign and head for the door. "Just get some rest, okay? Don't throw any wild parties and for pity's sake, stay out of the minibar."

She tries to glare at me, but she ends up pulling the pillow over her head. I pause, then turn back to the windows and pull the heavy inner drapes shut. "Thanks," comes out from under the pillow in a muffled voice.

"Sure." I head for the door again, and make my way out… after checking to be sure I have my key, that is. Wouldn't do to lock myself out of my room. I hang the "Do Not Disturb" sign and head down the hall. As much as she probably deserves to have the maid bother her, I've decided to be nice for once and give her a break.

At least the hotel has its own gym. It's not nearly as good as the one I would normally go to, but I don't want to leave the hotel. Besides, I'm feeling a little sore where the guy in the bar sucker punched me in the back. I'll have to have that checked out before the show, be sure there's no bruising. I hop onto a stair machine in the mini-gym. There's a lady shooting me dirty looks, like she thinks a homeless man has wandered into the gym. Must be time to trim the beard again. I'm tempted to tell her that it's a religious thing, but I don't.

I work out for a little more than an hour. I really need to go up and shower, and then I can come down and have lunch. Hopefully, Michelle is sleeping it off and won't notice me sneaking back in to shower and change. I ride the elevator up to the tenth floor, humming as I dig out my room key. I'm completely oblivious when I open the room door and step into a chaotic scene. Michelle is sitting up on the bed, completely miserable. That much I see when I open the door. "Michelle?"

"I'm sorry," she says.

Before I can ask why she's sorry, the other person in the room turns away from the window. Gallows stares at me, and I can't do anything but stare back, all words forgotten for the moment.


	5. Trade Off

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 5: Trade Off

"Punk," he says, inclining his head at me.

"Gallows." My voice is surprisingly even, all things considered. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking in with my fearless leader, of course," he says with a smirk.

"Well, that's..."

"So imagine my surprise," Gallows continues, as though I hadn't spoken, "when the door isn't answered by my scruffy savior, but instead by a woman wearing next to nothing who has obviously been drinking." He raises his eyebrows at me. "Maybe you aren't the man you claim to be."

"Or maybe," I say, my voice cold, "I'm helping a friend the only way I can."

"By what? Seducing her?"

"No, you idiot. By keeping her from getting herself raped last night."

Michelle looks stricken, but Gallows seems amused. "So then you brought her back here and…"

I stare at him. "I will say this once, and once only. We did not have sex. She threw up on me, Layla put her in one of my clean shirts, and she went out like a light. I slept over there, as you can clearly see, and she slept where she's sitting now."

"Fine," Gallows says, still smirking. "But how many people do you think are going to buy that story, Punk?"

"No one needs to 'buy' it because it's the truth." Michelle has tears in her eyes, and there's nothing I can do about it. If I go to her and say it's okay, then Luke has more ammo. So I ignore her tears, feeling like a heel. "Get out, Gallows."

"What, and leave you two lovebirds alone?"

I sigh and head for my bag. After a moment, I dig out a spare pair of sweats, which I toss to Michelle. "They're going to be too big, but they're better than nothing," I say. Then I look at Gallows. "We should talk about this later."

"Oh, have no fear of that," he says. "I'm sure we'll be having numerous discussions."

Michelle uses the distraction of our talk to slip into the sweats. When Gallows is finally finished making threats, he leaves. And that's when I look at her. She's dried off the tears, but she still looks miserable. "Sorry," she says.

"Sunshine," I sigh, settling on the bed beside her, "this has put me in a bad position, and I may need a favor from you. You're not going to like it…"

She meets my eyes. "Tell me what happened last night."

"I told you, nothing happened."

"And then you mentioned me nearly being raped." I'm quiet. "Come on, Punk," she says. "I need to know."

"You were in a bad spot," I mutter, "that's all."

"And what? You came and rescued me?"

"You're my friend, Michelle. What else can I do?"

She nods. "Fine. You saved me last night, and now you need something from me. Name it."

I can't stand the thought of asking, but I have to. I know she's going to be unhappy about it. "Join the straightedge society."

She surprises me by laughing. "That's the favor? You want me to do a storyline with you?"

"No," I say quietly. "It can't be just a storyline. If Gallows knows it's just a storyline, he can destroy my reputation. You have to actually do it." I finally meet her gaze, and she's staring at me. "Take the vow and let me shave your head on stage. The whole thing."

"Punk," she says softly, "that's a lot to ask."

"I know," I say. "But if you'll do it, then no one will question you and I being in here together. No one will think it's odd that we're riding in the same car. It's… It's my reputation that's getting damaged here. And as much as I hate to even bring it up…"

She sighs. "You went into a bar for me last night. Even knowing what it could do to your reputation. And you told Gallows off, even though it's my fault that he saw me here." Her eyes close. "Let me talk to Layla, because it's going to affect her, too. And there's still creative, needing to sign off on it."

"I know."

"It has to be this, doesn't it?" she asks.

"This would make things the easiest for me," I say.

"The things I do to keep your friendship, Cuddle Money," she says, with a small grin, "would make a lesser woman cry."

I chuckle. "Now you're using my own words against me, huh? You're going to fit right in, Michelle."

"Yeah." She shakes her head. "What the hell. It's not like alcohol is going to fill the void, right? Maybe I'll find something in all of this."

"I'm sorry about the thing with Hardy," I say, but she waves the words away.

"It wasn't meant to be, that's all. Ugh. We're going to have to talk to creative today, aren't we?"

"The sooner, the better," I say. "Because it'll probably take them a month or more to get everything worked out. Maybe you can waffle during that time."

"Yay! Waffles!" She grins. "I'm starting to feel less like something that was run over repeatedly. So… breakfast?"

"I need a shower, and so do you." She smirks at me. "You in your room, and me here," I clarify. "And it's late."

"Brunch, then," she says with a grin. "Meet you down in the lobby in twenty minutes. We can plot out how to kill Gallows in his sleep."

"Sounds like a plan to me, sunshine."


	6. Creative Differences

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 6: Creative Differences

Despite saying she was hungry, Michelle barely eats. We end up cutting brunch short when I get a phone call back from Creative. They want us to come in and discuss the straightedge storyline with them. I pay for the food, despite Michelle's protests, and we head over to the arena to talk to the writers. I don't pitch ideas all that often; in fact, the whole straightedge society was pitched to me since they were looking for a way to expand my heel influence. I was glad to do it at first, but now? I'm not so sure.

"Here's the thing," Bob the writer tells us. "We have the draft coming up. We're still not entirely sure who's going to end up where, but we'd planned to break up the straightedge society. You and Gallows will probably be on opposing brands."

"Punk?" Michelle says. "I'll do the storyline, but not if I'm on the same brand as Gallows when it splits."

"Fine," I say. "Let Gallows and Serena stay on Smackdown and move Michelle and I to Raw."

"What about team Lay-Cool?" Bob asks. "We had no plans to move anyone from Lay-Cool."

Michelle looks torn. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to," I tell her.

"We were going to put her in a storyline with Matt Hardy," Bob continues, oblivious to the fact that he's just said the worst thing in the world.

"If Matt's staying on Smackdown, then I want to go to Raw," she says quietly. "Because I am not going to do a storyline with Matt Hardy."

Bob looks perplexed. Not that I blame him, poor guy. "But…"

"You want me to have an onscreen boyfriend? Fine." She smiles at Bob and grabs my hand. "Punk can be my onscreen boyfriend."

"Uh, whoa," I say. "Maybe you ought to run that by Punk first, huh?"

Michelle looks up at me. "I didn't think you'd mind too much."

"Yeah, well, I'd rather you not assume," I mutter, disentangling myself. I can see the hurt look on her face, before she covers it up. I feel like I just kicked a puppy. A dying puppy.

"Fine," she says. "I don't need an onscreen boyfriend. Play it out however you want, so long as Hardy's not involved."

"I thought you guys were dating?" Bob asks.

"Not anymore," Michelle says. "And good riddance to him."

Bob looks confused, so I tell him, "It's complicated. Suffice it to say, she'd rather do a stint in the straightedge society than play Hardy's girlfriend."

"Right," Bob says, making a note of it. "I'll run it by the rest of the team, and we'll see what we can come up with."

"Thanks," I say.

When he's gone, Michelle turns to me. "What was that?"

"What?"

"You'd rather I not assume?"

Oh, good. She's come back to that. "It's not that I necessarily object to the storyline," I say, "but I think it would be good to ask me first before volunteering something like that."

"Okay, sure. But you did seem to be objecting."

"Look, it's nothing personal. You've been out of your relationship with Hardy for all of two days. I think it's understandable that I want to take things slow."

"What things? An onscreen relationship?"

"McCool," I sigh, "we're friends."

"Every time you say that, it spells trouble," she grumbles.

"I want to stay friends. I do not want to cross lines that should not be crossed. You're still in love with Hardy."

"I am not!" she says.

I roll my eyes. "Sure you're not. Anyway, I don't want you to jump into something- even an onscreen something- and muddy the waters for both of us."

She squints at me, like she hasn't been seeing me clearly until now. "Muddy the waters," she repeats. "Sorry, I didn't realize we were in a creek."

"Well, we are, and it has a shallow bottom." I feel like an idiot. Can I just say that? "And I don't want to make things more complicated than they already are. I've got to deal with this Gallows thing…"

"Right. Sorry."

"That's the only reason I'm hesitant about this. We have to sell the storyline, and if you jump from Hardy to me in an instant, no one is going to buy it. Especially if you guys don't do some promos for closure."

"Ugh!" Michelle says. "That's the last thing I want to do!"

"Right. So let's not try and sell a relationship between us until you can kill off the one you and Hardy have already sold, okay?"

"You're lucky I like you, Punk."

"Oh?"

Michelle nods. "Yep. Otherwise, I would probably think you're an insufferable pain in the ass, like everyone else around here does."

I grin. "We wouldn't want that, sunshine."

"Definitely not," she says.

When Bob returns, Michelle and I are making faces at one another. What? She started it. Bob gives me a perplexed look, then says to both of us, "It's going to take some work, and we're still figuring out the draft, but we should be able to work something out."

"That's awesome," Michelle says in her most sarcastic voice. "I'm really looking forward to working with you on this straightedge storyline, Mr. Punk."

"Oh, of course you are, Ms. McCool," I say, smirking at her. "Because I'm better than you, so I'll be a joy to work with."

"I never understood that," she says. "How can you be better than me if I'm flawless?"

"Oh, you have flaws."

Michelle grins. "Oh yeah? Prove it."

"I will, but not here." I glance toward Bob, who is staring at us. "After all, we don't want the mere mortals to be a part of our epic battles, do we?"

"Good point," she says, trying very hard to be serious. "We'll have to discuss this at a later time, then."

"Yes. What a pity." And then I can't hold it in any more. The look on Bob's face is priceless. I laugh, and Michelle joins me. It feels good to share that moment with her; times like this have been few and far between ever since we got back from Hardy's house all those weeks ago. I wish I could say that everything was cool after that, but I'm no fool. She's still got a long road ahead of her.


	7. Idiots

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 7: Idiots

Since we're already there, Michelle decides to head over to Lay-Cool's locker room and get ready for the show. It's only a few hours away. Personally, I'm glad for the reprieve. As much as I love her, being around Michelle is draining right now. I'm not particularly in the mood to go back to the hotel, either, so I find myself in catering, hours before anyone else. It's quiet and peaceful, which is how I end up zoning out. I've got my IPod on shuffle, earbuds in, and I'm staring at the inside of my eyelids. It's nice.

Until someone else sits down beside me, that is. My first thought is that it's probably Michelle. I open my eyes to check, and nope. It's not Michelle. I sigh and pull the earbuds out. "Hardy."

"Punk," he says.

I look around. We're the only ones in the entire room. I raise my eyebrows at him. "Fancy meeting you here."

He shifts his weight and meets my gaze. "Yeah, imagine that." He indicates the earbuds. "What are you listening to?"

I make a face. "Really? Did you come over here to ask me that?" But at his reminder, I shut the IPod off.

Hardy sighs. "Sorry." He's still not saying anything.

"Hardy," I say, and he looks at me. "I'm not sure what you want from me. You must have had a reason for coming over here."

He gives me a pained smile. "Yeah. I'm just…" Hardy shakes his head. "I don't even know."

"If you're going to ask me how she is…"

"I wasn't," he assures me.

"I'll tell you anyway. She's heartbroken."

"She's not the only one," Hardy says. "And I think I've got more of a right to be hurt than she does."

"I do not want to be in the middle of it," I tell him. "You can work your issues out with Michelle." I pick up the earbuds, intending to replace them so I can turn the music back on.

"She betrayed me,"' he says.

"Contrary to what you may think," I say, "she actually loves you. You're the idiot that walked away from her."

His lips compress, and I can see the anger on his face. "Well, good for her. Maybe next time, she'll think before she messes with someone." I expect him to storm off, but he doesn't. I have no idea what he wants from me, and I'm not about to find out, either, since Michelle picks that moment to walk into catering. I can see from the look on her face that she caught at least some of that. She moves stiffly to the table and stops beside me.

"Hey, sweetie," she says, and at first, I think she's talking to him, but then she adds, "Matt," with a curt nod. And then, the does the unthinkable. She leans down and kisses me. I'm so stunned, I can't even get a word out. "Thanks for letting me stay over last night."

Hardy pushes away from the table, his face red. Oh, God. I stare up at him. Despite what he'd just been saying, I can see pain in his eyes. I want to shake her. "I see," he says. His fists are clenched and he's staring at the pair of us. "Punk…" His jaw works, and then he turns away. "I don't think she does." And then he's striding away from us, as fast as he can go.

When I look up at her, she's staring after him. "What the hell was that?" I demand.

She finally tears her gaze away from the door. "What?"

For the first time since our friendship started, I wish I could walk away. "That wasn't acceptable, McCool. I don't want to get in another damned fight because of you."

"What do you mean, another fight?" she demands. "You make it sound like I'm dragging you into fights, left and right."

"Lately? It feels like it." I stand up.

"Where are you going now?"

"I've got to go see the doc, so he can look at my back, thanks to your friends at the bar last night." In truth, I just want out of there. My back's not all that sore, and I know it'll be fine for tonight.

"Oh. Uh, I'll see you later, then?"

"Yeah." I head for the door, tucking my IPod into my pocket. There's nowhere for me to go but the locker room or the doctor's office. I'm halfway to the doctor's office when Hardy catches up with me.

"Punk," he says.

"Look, Hardy," I say, "whatever you're thinking, don't. I'm not involved with your girlfriend."

"Ex," he mutters bitterly.

"Whatever."

"It doesn't matter," he says. "Because you know what? I've moved on. You can have her."

I smirk. "Yeah, okay. I'm buying that. Maybe if you hadn't stormed out of catering, looking like you wanted to kill me…"

Hardy sighs. "It's making me crazy," he says. "I put everything into that relationship, Punk. I was fully invested."

"And yet you walked away."

He looks frustrated. "She betrayed me."

"She made a stupid bet with her friend that she realized was a mistake almost instantly."

"Glad to know where I ranked with her," he says, still bitter. "As a mistake." I whap him in the head, which causes him to glare at me. "Punk," he growls.

"The bet was the mistake, you idiot. Not you. Why do you think she and Layla were fighting? We thought it was a joke at first, but after they had that girl's weekend, she confessed to me that she was falling for you. She's a mopey pain in the ass without you, and a less mopey pain in the ass with you." We're at the door to the doctor's office. I turn to him. "Maybe you should go and apologize to her, and make her less insufferable for the rest of us."

"Apologize?" he asks, incredulous. "I didn't do anything to her!"

"Except walk away," I say. "And face it; she's a woman. They're always right, so you may as well just get it over with."


	8. Misunderstanding

A/N: I actually typed Jericho's tweet in this chapter into Twitter to make sure it'd fit. I was so afraid I was going to hit enter and blast my account with that information. Hehe. Luckily for me, it didn't happen. :D

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 8: Misunderstanding

I've got a bruise forming on my back, but other than that, I'm fine. I can't say the same for Michelle. She's distracted and Layla's hung over, but they do their backstage promo with Vickie, in preparation for their match. I do an in ring promo about Vegas and sin and saving Rey Mysterio. I challenge him to a match at Extreme Rules. If I lose, I'll shave my head. The crowd loves it, of course. At least, they love the thought of me losing and shaving my head. As we're headed back up the ramp, Teddy Long stops us and says I'm having a match with the Undertaker tonight. Then we're backstage and team Lay-Cool is on their way out to more booing.

"I'll catch up with you guys later," I tell Gallows and Serena. Gallows smirks at me, but they walk away. While I'm standing there, Hardy joins me. "You're everywhere today, aren't you?" I ask.

"Gotta support team Adorkable," he mutters, "even if we're not a team anymore."

"Team what now?" I ask, raising my eyebrows at the name.

"Adorkable," he sighs, glancing my way. "And like it or not, you're an honorary member."

"I choose not, Hardy," I say, my eyes on the match. McCool loses her match, but really, she looks like she'd have been hard pressed to win it.

"She doesn't look like her heart's in it, does she?" he asks me quietly, as Lay-Cool heads toward us.

"That's because it isn't," I mutter.

Michelle hesitates when she sees us, watching her. "Punk, Hardy," she says, with a nod as she brushes past us.

"Great," I say to him, "now I'm getting the cold shoulder, too."

Layla, who'd come up behind Michelle with Vickie, says, "Don't worry about it, Punk. I'm sure she'll be good and cozy with you later." She winks and runs off after Michelle, giggling. I can feel Hardy's stare on me.

"What was that?" he wants to know.

"I don't know, Hardy," I mutter. "Divas being devious? They don't tell me anything around here."

"Maybe you ought to go after her."

"I'll talk to her later," I say dismissively.

"You know," he says, "you're a terrible boyfriend, Punk." And of course, just as he utters those words, who should arrive but Jericho and Edge, preparing to go out for their showdown.

The two Canadians shift their gazes from Hardy to me and back again. Finally, with a huge grin, Edge nudges Jericho and says, "See? Told you. You owe me fifty bucks."

My eyes widen in horror as Jericho says, "Ah, man! I could have sworn they were both straight after all the time McCool's been spending with them."

I facepalm, then turn to Hardy. "So help me, Hardy…" I growl at him.

"Aw!" Edge says, "they're having a lover's spat! Isn't it sooo cute, Chris?"

At first, Matt looks stricken. Then a sly grin forms on his face as he edges closer to me. "Aw, sweetie. The news is out. We may as well share it with the whole roster, since they'll know by tomorrow, anyway. I'm sure Chris will be tweeting it as soon as he's clear of the stage."

"Already done," Jericho informs us, tucking his cell back into his suit pocket.

"See? There's no hiding it now." Hardy slings his arm around me and moves in, like he's going to kiss me. I shove him off.

"What the hell, Hardy?" I demand. Edge and Jericho are laughing. My face feels like it's on fire. "You're so not my type. For one thing, I don't go in for stubble."

"Strangely enough," Matt quips, which makes Jericho and Edge laugh again.

I glare at the pair of them. "Don't you two have a match to wrestle?"

Matt pulls out his phone, checks it, then laughs. "Good one, Jericho."

I snatch the phone and read off the text. "IAmJericho Just walked in on a lover's quarrel between Hardy & Punk backstage. WTF? I had no idea they were together?!" it says. I turn to glare at Matt. "Fix this."

"I can't," Matt says, grinning at me. "It's on the internet, so it must be true, right?"

I turn to Jericho, but he and Edge are gone. Bastards.

By the time they finish up their bit, the whole roster is whispering about that damned message. I know some of the superstars and divas have those twitter things, and the ones that don't are hearing it from the ones that do. When Undertaker meets me in the ring, he leans close in that menacing way of his and says, "Don't worry, Punk. I won't rough you up too much. I'll leave that for Hardy." I am going to kill Matt Hardy, no two ways about it.

Serena spends the whole match staring at me, with this look in her eyes. When the event is finally over and we're headed backstage, she takes my hand as usual and whispers to me, "Why didn't you tell me about you and Matt? It makes sense now."

"I am not in love with Matt Hardy!" I snap. Unfortunately, some of the fans hear my outburst. Uh, oops? Matt Hardy is SO dead. Tonight. Right after I kill Jericho for putting that damned message online.


	9. Conspiracy Theories

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 9: Conspiracy Theories

Back in catering, what looks like the whole roster is waiting for me. They break into spontaneous applause when I step through the door. Hardy stands up and heads my way, and I want nothing more than to deck him, but I don't. He smirks at me, then turns to look at the rest of the roster. "Come on, guys, leave Punky alone."

Did he just call me Punky? Oh, God. "Hardy," I growl. "FIX THIS or I'm going to kick your ass."

"Sounds kinky," he says, still smirking. I make a fist, and he holds his hands up. "Okay, guys, seriously. Fun's over."

I stare at the room. They stare back at me. "Whatever," I mutter to Hardy, then I push past him and grab myself a water. I'm not going to stand around here and wait for these idiots to say something. Michelle joins me after a moment. "What?" I all but snap at her.

She shrugs. "We could give them something else to talk about."

I turn to stare at her. "What are you suggesting?"

Michelle bites her lip. "Tell them we're together?"

"Thanks, but no. It's been a hell of a night already, and I'm not adding fuel to the flames, McCool. Besides, why would you want to do that?"

She looked down. "So people would quit asking about what happened between me and Matt."

"Oh."

"They're making jokes about it, saying that you're the reason we broke up. They think Matt was cheating on me with you."

I give her a look of disbelief. "Do they seriously think Hardy and I are gay?"

"I don't know," she says. "What did he say to make Jericho post that, anyway?"

"That I'm a terrible boyfriend," I mutter.

Michelle looks up at me, frowning. "What?"

I sigh. "You weren't talking to me out there, and I said I'd talk to you later, which made him call me a bad boyfriend just as Edge and Jericho walked up."

"Oh, God," she says, covering her mouth. She tries to stifle a giggle.

"Are you laughing, McCool?" I ask.

"I'm sorry," she says, more laughter escaping. "But… that's a classic."

"I'm so glad it amuses you," I said dryly. "Between you and Hardy, my reputation is in the toilet."

"It's not that bad," she says, patting my arm.

"People think I'm sleeping with your ex," I say. "How is that 'not that bad', McCool?"

"Because I can help you fix it. It's not permanent damage." She grins at me. "Jericho's not the only one with a Twitter. Matt and I both have one, too. We can have it all straightened out in no time." She pauses. "Er, you're going to have to ask him, though, because I can't."

"I wish the two of you would work this damned thing out already," I say.

"He dumped me, Punk," she says. "What is there to work out?"

I sigh. "Fine. Hardy! Come here!" I snap.

There are various, "Ooohs!" from the room.

"I don't think that helped," Michelle informs me, as she tries to inch away. I grab her arm and hold her there as Hardy arrives.

"What?"

I glare between the two of them. "McCool says you have a Twitter and can fix this."

"Well, I do have a Twitter, but I don't know if I can fix it."

"If you and McCool both Twitter it…"

"It's called tweeting," she informs me.

"I don't care if it's called roasting chickens with your mother!" I snap at her. "You and you will fix this. And you," I poke Hardy in the chest, "will tell him," pointing to Jericho, "to make that go away." And with that, I grab another water bottle and head for the door, full steam ahead.

"Er, Punk?" Michelle calls after me.

"What?" I stop in the doorway and glare at her.

"I kind of need to talk to you about something."

"Later."

She sighs and nods, then looks at Matt, who is watching me. "Sure. Sorry."

Since everyone is in catering, I head for the straightedge locker room. I'm sure I'd seen Gallows and Serena in the mass of humanity when I'd arrived at catering, but they must not have been there when I left because I hear them talking softly in the locker room. Gallows' voice is pitched low, making it impossible for me to hear what's being said. Call me paranoid, but I'm sure it's something about me. I push the door open slightly and the voices clarify, though they're still soft. "I don't know," Luke says. "She let me into his room this morning, and she was only half dressed."

"But Luke," Serena countered, "I've got Twitter, and Jericho swears that Punk and Hardy were having an argument."

"She was Hardy's girlfriend," Luke says, "and she is always hanging around Punk. They spend a lot of time alone together. If you and I hadn't gotten in so early today, he would have gotten her out of that room and I'd never have seen her. But she answered the door, happy as a lark, asking if I'd forgotten my key or something. And you should have seen the look on her face when she saw me, Serena. It was like she knew she was caught doing something she shouldn't be. No, I think he's full of shit. He's been seeing her behind Hardy's back this whole time, and that's why they aren't still together anymore. Hardy probably posed as gay when he saw Jericho coming to get his revenge on Punk."

"That doesn't make any sense," Serena says. "Why would he want HER? She's not like us."

"He's working on that," Gallows says. "Bob told me there's some plan for her to go straightedge in the next week or two, so that when the draft comes, they can split us up." I thought about the plan I'd taken to creative and I wince. "Them on one brand, and us on the other."

"So he really is plotting against us?" Serena asks. "All that stuff you've been telling me about him getting bigger superstars and dumping us is true?"

"Yes," Luke sighs. "It's true, and it has already begun, Serena."


	10. Confronting Gallows

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 10: Confronting Gallows

Putting aside the fact that none of what he's said is true, of course, I can see how Luke might come to that conclusion with my recent behavior. I ease the door closed and stand in the hall, deep in thought. What can I do? If I confront Gallows about what he's said, then he's probably going to be even more paranoid. I don't want to make things worse. Without a plan in mind, I push the door open and stroll into the locker room. Gallows breaks off whatever he's saying and glares at me. "What?" I ask, in my best innocent voice.

It's Serena who approaches me, though. She's wringing her hands as she asks, "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" I counter. "If you mean the rumors about me and Hardy, or me and McCool, then the answer is no."

"So you're not planning on her joining the straightedge society?" Serena says.

"Oh, that." I sigh. "Well, yes, that part is true."

"But why?"

I look from Luke to Serena and back again. "She's going through a tough time, Serena, and she needs guidance. Look what straightedge has done for you. We need to share this gift with the world."

Serena says, "Really, Punk? You're going to preach to me like I'm some kind of mark?"

I smirk. "She does need help. She turned to drink, and that didn't help, so she agreed to try straightedge. That's all."

"What about the draft?" Gallows asks.

"Creative hasn't made a decision yet, or so I was told."

"If we get split…" Serena says, "then what?"

"I don't know," I tell her. "Then we spread out on both brands until we can reunite."

"Right," Gallows says, eyeing me. "We might have bought that a month ago, but you're spending all your time with McCool and Hardy, even now." He turns to Serena. "I say he's trying to break up the straightedge society and we're better off jumping ship as soon as we can."

"You've been plotting against me for weeks now, Gallows," I say.

"I've been trying to determine where your loyalties lie, Punk," he counters. "And they damned sure don't seem to lie with us."

"What do you think, Serena?" I ask her quietly.

"I don't know," she confesses. "When we started out, you spent a lot of time with us. Now you're spending it all with Matt and Michelle." She bites her lip. "I don't want to be left out in the cold, Punk. If she joins us, then what's going to happen to Luke and I?"

"Nothing!" I say, running a hand through my hair. "You two are vital to the straightedge society."

She nods. "Are we going to get dinner tonight? The three of us?"

I sigh. "I can't. I've got a mess to clean up."

Gallows gives me a stony look as he says, "You're always too busy any more, Punk." He slips an arm around Serena's shoulder. She looks away from me. "But don't worry about us. We'll figure something out." The smile that follows those words chills me.

"Look," I say, "tomorrow night. I should have everything worked out by then."

"And if you don't?" Serena's eyes lift to meet mine. "What then, Punk?"

"Then he'll blow us off again," Gallows says. "Come on, Serena. I'll take you out to dinner tonight, and tomorrow night, too. Regardless of what our fearless leader is doing." He walks past me, knocking our shoulders together when I don't immediately move. "May want to watch your step, Punk. I hear it's a long fall from the top."

"Are you threatening me, Gallows?" I ask in disbelief.

"Consider it more of a promise," he answers, and then he and Serena are pushing their way out of the locker room, leaving me alone.

"Great," I mutter, grabbing my street clothes so that I can catch a quick shower. It takes under ten minutes for me to shower, dress and head back to catering. Most of the room's cleared, but both Hardy and McCool are still there, sitting at the same table, but as far apart as they can get. They're not speaking, or otherwise acknowledging one another in any way. They both look up as I enter. "Let's go," I say.

"Where?" Hardy asks.

I frown at him. "I'm talking to her."

He smirks. "And I'm catching a ride with you two. You owe me, Punk."

I sigh. "Fine. Whatever. We'll grab a late dinner somewhere. But so help me, if the two of you get rowdy, you're walking back to the hotel."

"Fine by me," Hardy says. "So where are we headed?" He stands up and grabs his gear.

"The last place anyone would expect us to go," I say.


	11. Another Bar

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 11: Another Bar

The place is a dive, well off the beaten path. I'd driven for twenty minutes before we found it. This late on a Tuesday night, there's almost no one around, so we have our choice of places to sit. I choose the spot furthest from the bar, which happens to be a booth. Matt orders a beer, but Michelle and I stick to Pepsi. She keeps glancing at his beer, and I'm glad she's making the effort, but… "You could have had a beer," I tell her.

"Thanks," she says, smiling at me, "but we made a deal, and you said it has to be real and not just storyline."

I nod. Matt's frowning. "What are you talking about?"

I glance at her. "Michelle—"

She shakes her head. "Doesn't matter. It's not what we're here to talk about." She pulls out her cell phone and brings up Twitter. "I already updated mine on the way over." She'd been strangely quiet during the drive, and I'd seen her messing with her phone. She slides the phone over to me. "**McCoolMichelleL **IAmJericho Punk & Hardy definitely aren't together; take it from someone who knows FOR SURE."

Matt checks his cell, then looks at her. "I'll retweet, then update mine." She nods. Matt clicks away on his phone, then says, "Updated." Michelle clicks a button and Matt's reply appears. "MATTHARDYBRAND IAmJericho Punk & I were arguing over something he said to his girlfriend, NOT having a lover's quarrel."

"Girlfriend?" Michelle asks, raising her brows at me.

"He means you," I say. "Damn it, Hardy, we've been over this. She's not my girlfriend."

Matt smirks at the pair of us. "Uh huh. Just keep saying it, Pepsi drinkers. Besides, the point is that we've clarified what happened backstage and the public will now stop thinking you're gay. Well, as much as they can when Gallows keeps rubbing your shoulders like that. At least they won't think you and I are together." He sips his beer and looks smug. "Besides, we never have to say who the girlfriend is, just that we were discussing her."

I sigh. "Now I just have to get Jericho to acknowledge it."

"He will," Matt says. "I'll be sure he does. But you know, Punk, you ought to get a Twitter."

"No thanks," I say sourly. "Look how much trouble it's already caused me today."

Matt shrugs. We're all quiet for a long moment. I stare down into my drink, thinking about what Gallows and Serena said in the locker room. Matt clears his throat. "So, uh."

"What?" I ask, pulling my attention back to him.

Matt shifts on the seat and looks up at Michelle. "I'm sorry."

Michelle frowns and looks at me before turning her gaze to him. "Sorry? For what?"

"I don't really know," he says. "Punk said I should apologize to you, but he didn't clarify why."

Now they're both staring at me. I swear, my friends are idiots. They're going to be the death of me. "Punk?" Michelle asks, an edge to her voice.

I take a sip of my Pepsi before answering. "For walking away and not letting you explain yourself the other night."

They answer at the same time. "Why does he need you to tell him that?" she says.

"That's why I'm apologizing?" he says.

They stare at one another. Suddenly, sitting between them seems like a supremely bad idea. "I think I'd like to get up," I say.

"Oh, you're not going anywhere," Michelle tells me.

"No, really," I say. "I need another Pepsi."

"It'll wait." She looks at my glass. "Since yours is still half full. Start talking, Punk."

"What would you like me to say?"

Michelle smirks at me. "I don't care which question you answer first."

I take a breath and turn to Matt. "Yes. That's what you were apologizing for." He furrows his brows. Michelle clears her throat, so I turn to meet her gaze. She's staring daggers at me. "I'm sorry," I mutter. "Men can be clueless. I thought it would help if he knew which step to take next."

"Oh, sure, if he meant it," she said.

"How do you know he doesn't?"

"Are you kidding me? You had to explain to him why he should apologize- something you didn't do a great job of, by the way- and you wonder if he means it?"

"Hey, I'm still here," Matt says.

"And I'm happy for you. Maybe you should have tried that approach to our relationship," she says, and then she slides out of the booth, suddenly releasing me from my imprisonment. From the look on her face, though, I'm not sure this is better. "Let's go, Punk."

"Um, okay." I slide out, too. Matt finishes his beer and stands up.

"You stay here," Michelle tells him.

"What? No way."

"Come on, sunshine," I say. "I wouldn't abandon you in the bar, and we're not going to abandon Hardy."

"Fine," she says. "I'll call a cab."

"Michelle," I say, taking her arm, "come with me a moment." I glance back at Hardy. "We'll be right back."

"Sure," he mutters. "Take your time."

I lead her across the room, to the hallway that hides the bathrooms. It's quieter there, and we can't see or be seen in the bar itself. I release her arm, and she crosses them against me, an angry look on her face. I sigh. "We brought him. We have to take him back with us."

"Why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do."

"What if I don't want to do the right thing?"

I meet her gaze. "Then you're not flawless, and I'm definitely better than you."

She eyes me. "I'm serious, Punk, and you're making a joke?"

"Just because you're angry at him doesn't mean we should abandon Matt. He walked away from you—"

"That's right! He did!" Her tone is angry, but I can feel the hurt underneath that. I've been looking at it for three days now.

"Then be the bigger person," I tell her quietly, "and show him what he's missing. Do for him what he didn't do for you."

"Why?" she asks me again.

I smile. "Because when he comes to his senses- and he will- it will bother him that you didn't do to him what he did to you. He expected you to hurt and betray him, Michelle. It'll blow his mind if you don't."


	12. Won't Let Go

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

A/N: This chapter's title came from Sum 41's With Me.

Something To Believe In

CH 12: Won't Let Go

When we rejoined Hardy, Michelle said, "I'm riding shotgun." Matt glances at me, then nods, rising to follow us out. "And you're buying dinner, Matt."

"Sure," he readily agrees.

I open the car and let the two of them in. Matt slides into the back without protest. I drive us to the nearest drive through and order our food. It's a somewhat complex order, but they get it right. The guy working the window doesn't recognize us, which is kind of nice. We're on our way back to the hotel in no time. Michelle immediately makes a nuisance of herself by stealing fries out of the bag.

"Typical," Matt says. "She didn't order fries, and she's stealing them from the bag."

"Only your fries," she tells him with a grin. This is the easiest they've been with one another since before Wrestlemania, so I don't tell her to stop with the fries.

"Why is it always my fries?" Matt wails.

"Because," she answers back, smirking.

"Because isn't an answer, Michelle."

"Because I feel like it." I'm quiet through the exchange. It reminds me of the way they used to act, and I smile. Michelle nudges me. "What are you smiling about? I thought we were ruining your reputation?"

"He said it's in the toilet," Matt agrees.

"It is," I say, "but it's nice to see you two getting along again."

"We're not," Michelle says automatically. "We're arguing about fries."

"Whatever." I glance in my rearview mirror and catch Matt's eye. He meets my gaze for a long moment, then looks away. I wonder what he's thinking.

Not for long, though. "So, Punk," he says casually, "I heard a rumor that you're trying to expand the straightedge society in preparation for the draft."

Michelle and I glance at one another. I shrug. "I'm always trying to spread enlightenment, Hardy. Why, are you interested?"

"Not really," he said. "But Gallows mentioned that you were trying to line up some bigger names, a couple superstars, maybe another diva or two."

"If someone wanted to join, I certainly wouldn't stop them."

"Mm. I heard the recruiting was somewhat more… active than that. In fact, he mentioned that you had seduced a diva into agreeing after she spent the night with you."

"He didn't seduce me!" Michelle said.

The silence was deafening. Then, "Ah." Matt sat back in his seat. "So that's what you meant when you thanked Punk earlier."

I sigh. "Gallows has a lot of his facts wrong, Hardy."

"Hey, I told you earlier, I'm over her. You move on quick though, don't you, sweetheart?"

I can see the anger on Michelle's face. She carefully reaches into the bag of food and pulls out the fries. Then, with a sweet smile, she turns to Matt. "You know what? I do." And then she throws the fries at him. He's caught off guard, to say the least.

"Hey!" Matt says. He starts picking the fries off his shirt. "What the hell, McCool?"

Her voice is so cold, it makes me shiver. "Be grateful I didn't follow it with my drink." She turns to me. "Are we almost to the hotel?"

"Two blocks," I promise.

"Good," she says, folding her arms over her chest as she stares straight ahead.

I sigh. "I wish you'd quit screwing up, Hardy. You make my life harder."

Matt glares at me. "What? You think I say things just to piss you two off? We're two blocks from the hotel? Fine, pull over and I'll walk the rest of the way."

"No."

"No?" he says. "Why the hell not?"

I glance back at him. "Honestly? Because we were friends for a while there. All three of us. I'm not going to abandon either of you, even though you're making my life more difficult."

"That makes no sense."

"What can I say? I'm loyal." I shrug, and Matt shakes his head. "Besides, here's what Gallows didn't know. Michelle is doing me a favor by joining the straightedge society at my request."

"Don't bother to explain it to him, he doesn't care," she says in that same icy tone. "He's over me, remember? So we could be having an affair, and he wouldn't give a damn."

This again? I look at her, then back at Hardy, whose lips are pressed together so hard that they're forming a white line. "I don't betray my friends," I say.

"I'm your friend," Michelle says to me, anger evident on her face as well. "In fact, you two hated each other until I came along. And now you're all about keeping him happy when you saw…" Her voice broke on the last word. She turns away from me, to the window. "You know what? Forget it."

By the time we get to the hotel, the tension's thick enough that I no longer want food. However, Michelle quietly sorts it out and hands Matt his food (minus his fries, of course), then gets out of the car. Matt and I look at one another. "Maybe you'd better go after her," he says to me finally.

"Yeah." I want to make a comment about him hurting her again, but I don't. "See you at the next show."

"Sure," he says, and then he's headed around the side of the hotel. He doesn't even want to use the same door she used.

I catch up with Michelle at the elevator. "Gallows in with you tonight?" she asks.

"No."

She nods. "I… I want to go drinking tonight, but I'm not going to."

"Thanks."

She turns to me then. "Layla will, though, and she'll come back drunk."

I pull my lip ring into my mouth and run my teeth over it. "Are you asking to stay with me again tonight, McCool?"

She looks at the elevator, which is opening. "Yeah."

I sigh. "Okay."

"Okay?" she asks, surprised. I take her arm and lead her into the elevator, which is empty except for us.

"Okay."

"Wow." She blinks. "I expected you to say no."

"I probably should," I agree. "But like I told Hardy in the car, I'm loyal. You're asking me for something, and it's something I'm okay with giving you."

"Why?"

"Because you're my friend, Michelle," I say seriously, "and you need my help."


	13. The New Straightedge Society

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 13: The New Straightedge Society

This time, when Gallows and Serena come to my room the next morning, I'm ready for them. Michelle and I are dressed and waiting. I answer the door and usher the pair of them in. Serena stops as soon as she sees Michelle. "What's she doing here?" she asks, turning to me.

"Have a seat," I tell them. They look wary, but do as I ask. I look at Michelle. She nods, and I turn back to the straightedge society. "Everything is changing," I say, "except for the most important thing. You two are the backbone of the straightedge society. I need you." I pause. "Michelle came to me for help, as I've told you. We can help each other. Creative called me this morning. They said she can be inducted on next week's show."

"Inducted?" Serena asks. "You mean like we were?"

"Yes," I say. "We'll do our usual thing, with me calling out Rey Mysterio again. Before the segment's over, Michelle will come out."

Serena looks at Michelle. "You're going to shave your head? What does your tag team partner think?"

Michelle smirks. "We're set to lose yet again. It's going to cause us to feud, which is why I'm coming down to the ring. I'll start by yelling at you guys, and then Punk will persuade me over." She shrugs.

"And you think the audience will buy that?" Gallows asks me.

"Yes," I say. "Because we're all going to sell it."

"But…" Serena says. "I don't know, Punk. Do you think she can sell it?"

"Oh, I can sell it," Michelle says with a smile. "Don't worry, Serena. I'm on board with everything. I'm willing to work my ass off to make great things happen for the straightedge society."

"See? You guys don't have anything to worry about," I say.

Gallows and Serena exchange glances. "We're not sure," Gallows says.

"Fine," I say. "That's why the four of us are riding together to the next venue, and why I've booked a suite at the next hotel. Serena and Michelle will share one room, and Luke and I will share the other. And we're having dinner together tonight, just the four of us. Get used to being together, because we're about to do it full time until the next show." I turn to Michelle. "Welcome to the straightedge society."

"Thanks," she says, arching her eyebrows at me. "You're making it sound so amazing- twenty four seven of the three of you. How can anyone resist?"

I smirk. "We have to get used to being a cohesive group." I pause. "And I know it's going to break your heart, but you'll have to limit your contact with Hardy."

Michelle smiles. "I think I'll be able to manage that. It'll be a struggle, but…" She lets out a mock sigh. "I'll get through it somehow. Look at me, already making sacrifices for you guys." Gallows rolls his eyes, but I know what she's saying is true; she is making sacrifices for us. Not that this is one of them.

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter. "That's you, all right. Completely devoted to the cause."

"Hmph. Hey, shopping's not off limits, right?"

"No?" I venture.

"Great." Michelle grins at me. "Then when we get to the next venue, Serena and I are going shopping."

"What?" Serena asks, startled. She looks between Luke and I, and I can see panic in her eyes. "Um."

"Sounds great," I say smoothly. "It will let you two have some girl bonding time." And it'll give me some time to talk to Gallows, though I don't mention that out loud.

Serena glares daggers at me, but Michelle seems happy. "Fantastic! If I'm shaving my head, then I'm going to need some seriously devastating eye make up. And maybe a sparkly top."

Gallows eyes me. "Is she really the best idea for the next member of the straightedge society?"

"Doesn't matter. She's what we've got, and I'm damned grateful she agreed to join."

Michelle grins and holds her arms up in an X. "Yay, straightedge!" She winks at me. It's so absurd that I end up snickering, despite trying to keep a straight face. She's just so perky about it. Gallows glares at me.

"Be serious, McCool," I say, and she pouts.

"How's this?"

"Is she mocking us?" Gallows asks.

"Of course not." I give Michelle a look, and she quits mocking us.

"No, I'm taking this seriously," Michelle says. "But you know, you guys could stand to have a little fun now and again. Just because we're straightedge doesn't mean we have to be boring, does it? We could… um… go bowling."

"Bowling?" I ask.

"Give me a break. It was the first thing that came to mind. Okay, how about this. We could get some DVDs."

"DVDs," Gallows says.

"Video games?" She stares at the three of us. "Come on! You guys can come up with something! Otherwise, it's going to be a really long week. You've got to have some fun sometimes, right?"

"Punk?" Serena asks.

I sigh. "We'll figure something out, guys."

"So long as it's not screaming in unison again," Michelle mutters. "I hear you guys suck at that." She gives Luke a meaningful look.

I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing again. Poor Serena and Luke. They don't stand a chance.


	14. Road Tripping

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 14: Road Tripping

There are only so many combinations you can have when you put four adults into a compact car. Especially when one of said adults does not pack light. "What?" Michelle asks defensively. "It was Wrestlemania week!" And that's how we end up renting an SUV.

Immediately, it becomes clear that we are a diverse group. Gallows wants to sit next to Serena. Fearing a revolt in the car, I suggest that the girls sit together and allow Luke to drive so I can keep an eye on them. Michelle ends up behind Gallows, which puts Serena behind me. Luke finds a radio station that he likes. Serena looks uncomfortable, and she keeps glaring at me. Michelle seems to be in a good mood, at least. I'm just starting to relax when Michelle hands me her phone. "What's this for?"

"Read it," she suggests.

I stare down at the screen. "IAmJericho I stand corrected. Hardy & Punk are NOT a couple. They were arguing about a girl. Simple mistake; could've happened to anyone!" I look up at Michelle. "Good." She nods and takes the phone back from me.

"Told you we'd fix it."

Serena turns to Michelle. "So why did you and Hardy break up? You two were cute together."

I sit up and look back at Serena. "I don't think…"

"It's okay," Michelle says. "We're going to be hanging out together, right? They should know." She takes a deep breath. "I'm an idiot."

"You're both idiots," I mutter.

Michelle smirks at me. "As your esteemed leader points out…" She pauses. "Well, no. I guess I should say, as our esteemed leader points out, shouldn't I? I mean, I'm part of all of this now, right?"

"So you keep telling us," Luke says.

Michelle eyes the back of Luke's head. "Mm. Okay then. We're both idiots." She makes a face at me. "I'm an idiot for making a bet with Layla and thinking he'd never find out, and he's an idiot for not realizing in the end that I loved him."

"So that thing about the bet was real?" Serena asks.

"Yeah," Michelle sighs. "Real and stupid and… yeah."

"But Matt…" Serena frowns. "He really seemed to love you, too."

"There's no accounting for taste," Gallows mutters. Michelle whaps him in the head. "You don't hit the driver!"

"I do," she says, smiling sweetly. "If he's being an ass. Just ask Punk."

I wince. "She does it all the time," I confirm.

"That's unsafe," Gallows says.

"Then don't be an ass," Michelle says. "Simple as that." She turns back to Serena. She seems to consider her next words carefully. "He was going to ask me to move in with him, and then he found out about the bet. He felt hurt and betrayed and wouldn't listen to my explanation. That's why we broke up."

"Oh."

I frown at Michelle. "He was?"

"What?" she asks.

"Going to ask you to move in with him?"

"Apparently," she says with a shrug. "He told Layla about it, and she told him about the bet."

"I didn't know what happened," I tell her. "When he told me about it the other night, he didn't mention any of that." I shake my head. "Layla told him? That's low."

"She was right, though," Michelle says with a sigh. I can see that she wants to be mopey about it, and that's going to make the car ride even worse.

"We'll talk about it later," I say. "But maybe we ought to pull over and get some lunch." Luke glances at me, then takes the next freeway exit. Luckily, it happens to have several restaurants. He pulls into a Denny's and unbuckles without a word, getting out of the SUV. Serena shoots me a hesitant look, and I nod to her. "Go ahead. We'll be in in a minute. You and Luke get us a table."

Serena nods and exits the vehicle. Once we're alone, Michelle turns to me. "Wow, the straightedge society are sure cheery, aren't they? I don't have to get my sense of humor surgically removed, do I?" she asks. "Because that's not what I signed up for."

"Yes, you did," I say. "Read the fine print."

She smacks my shoulder, and I smirk at her. "Thank you."

"For what?" I ask.

She waves her hand. "Everything. The SUV, the storyline, picking up the shattered pieces of my heart? Take your pick."

"That's what friends do, sunshine."

"I wouldn't know." She looks away from me. "It's weird that you and Matt are on better terms than he and I are."

"You're still hurting, so it's understandable."

"I would have said yes." She looks at me again. "To moving in with him."

I nod. "That makes sense."

"It's my own fault. I should have told him a month ago."

"You should have, yes. Layla shouldn't have told him."

She sighs. "Layla was trying to show me it would never last."

"I don't think she was."

"What do you mean?"

"Michelle," I say, "she wanted to end your friendship over Hardy. Then, she makes up with you the day before she shares the secret bet with him. Do you think that's a coincidence?"

"No," she says, "it's the day that Matt told her he was going to ask me to move in with him."

"She could have left it alone and never said a word. Who knew about the bet? You, me and Layla?"

"Yeah."

"I wasn't going to tell him, and if you never told him, how would he find out?" Her eyes narrow. "She hates him, and she wanted her friend back."

"So you think she told him to hurt me?"

"No," I say, "not to hurt you. I don't think she realized how invested you were, despite both of us telling her. I think she did it to get Hardy out of your life."

"Well, it worked."

"Yeah, it did." I open the door. "So lunch?"

"With the straightedge society? Why not?" she asks. "Should be a barrel of laughs."


	15. Trying To Get Along

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 15: Trying To Get Along

Gallows and Serena have a booth in the back. They're sitting on the same side, heads together, when Michelle and I walk up. Whatever they're saying to one another ceases when we join them. "We ordered you guys cokes," Luke says.

"Thanks." I want to make a face, but I don't.

Michelle elbows me in the side before sliding into the booth. I slip in beside her as the waitress returns with the drinks. "Thanks!" Michelle says, pulling her coke to her and taking a sip. "Mm, that's good." She grins at me.

"You need a lobotomy," I mutter, which makes her laugh. She quickly covers it as a cough when Gallows glares at her.

"Are you ready to order?" the waitress asks.

"Um, we need a minute," I say, lifting my menu.

"Okay," the waitress says. She walks away, and Michelle ducks behind my menu with me.

I turn my head, and we're nearly nose to nose. "Michelle?"

She grins. "Hey, Punk."

"You have your own menu."

"Yup." She lowers her voice to a whisper. "But this makes Gallows more paranoid."

I slap the menu down, and sure enough, he's glaring at us. Michelle giggles. "I wish the two of you would try to get along."

Michelle grins at me. "Oh, okay." She pulls up her menu and looks through it. By the time the waitress comes back, we're ready. We order our food, then sit back to wait for its arrival. "So Luke," she says, "chicken, huh? Interesting choice."

Gallows looks at me. I sigh. "She's trying."

"Very," he mutters.

Michelle ignores that. "I'm sure you noticed I ordered eggs."

"I wasn't paying attention," Gallows says.

"And pancakes," she adds helpfully. "Which also have eggs in them. So as you can see, we have a lot in common."

Gallows lowers his brows and gives her a perplexed look. "We do?"

"Sure! You like chicken, and I like eggs, which come from chickens. Unless they're using ostrich eggs or something weird like that." She pauses. "Do you think I should ask?"'

"No," I say. "You'll just confuse the waitress."

Michelle nods. "Okay then." She smiles across the table at him. I'm about to to tell her to knock it off when her phone rings. "Oh, hold on a sec," she says to Luke. She pulls the phone out and frowns at it before opening it and snapping, "What do you want?" I raise my eyebrows at her, but Michelle is ignoring me. "Yeah, I saw it." She frowns. "He did what? No, I didn't see that." With a sigh, she says, "Thanks. I'll go look." Then she hangs up and starts messing with the phone.

"Michelle?" I ask.

"Just a second." She groans and hands me the phone. "That ass!"

"What?" I stare down at the phone. It's pulled up to Jericho's Twitter. I see the post where he'd said Hardy and I weren't together, but after it is a second post. This one reads, "IAmJericho But they'd make a cute couple, wouldn't they?" I meet Michelle's eyes. "Hardy and I would make a cute couple? What is Jericho's problem?"

She shrugs. "He likes to be antagonistic online. He's trying to keep up his heel persona."

"You may have to address this," Gallows says.

I sigh. "There isn't much I can do about it, aside from full on kissing a woman in the ring. And that's not happening any time soon."

"Why not?" Michelle asks. "It would fix the problem, at least somewhat."

"We've talked about this, McCool. You and I can't possibly be involved because of Hardy."

She grins at me. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean you and Serena…"

Serena's eyes are huge. I hold up a hand. "I'm not going to ask that of her. I'm her mentor, which puts me in a position of power over her. It would be irresponsible of me to take advantage of that bond."

Michelle smirks. "Fine."

"So who was on the phone, anyway?" I ask.

"Oh. It was Matt."

I frown. "I didn't think the two of you were speaking any more."

"He wanted to make sure we saw it."

The waitress comes back with the food. The mood around the table is somber as she passes it out. "Thanks," I say. I take a bite of my food, then look up to see Serena frowning at me. "Is there a problem?" I ask her.

"No," she says, looking quickly down at her food and picking up her fork. Which is weird, because she's got a sandwich. I glance at Michelle. She's still smirking at me, and I have no idea why. I have a feeling I'm going to have to corner her and drag information out of her after the two of them have their little shopping expedition. Or maybe Luke can tell me what the hell's going on in my own group. Either way, it's going to have to wait until we get to the next venue.

"Well," I sigh, "let's eat. We've got a couple more hours on the road. I'd like to get there before dark."

"Sounds good to me," Michelle says brightly.

Despite Michelle's cheeriness, the meal feels grim. We're quiet, aside from Michelle, who seems to be chattering to fill the void. Looking at us through her eyes, I can see why she thinks we need to lighten up and have some fun. It makes me wonder how believable she'll be as a straightedge society member because she's too vibrant, compared to the rest of us. I'm ruminating on it through the entire meal, so much so that I scarcely taste the food.


	16. Conflict Resolution

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 16: Conflict Resolution

As we're headed back out to the SUV, Michelle pulls me aside. "Punk?"

"What is it?"

She bites her lip. "Can we trade seats?"

I frown at her. "Trade seats?"

"I'll sit up front, next to Gallows and you sit in back, next to Serena."

"Why would you want to sit next to Gallows?" I ask her.

"Because I don't think he likes it when I sit behind him."

"Why don't you and Serena trade places, then?"

She shakes her head. "You didn't want them sitting that way when we started. Besides, what's the big deal? It'll give me a chance to have a conversation with Luke."

I sigh. "Fine."

"Really?" She smiles at me.

"Yes, really."

"Great!" She throws her arms around me and hugs me. I give her a halfhearted hug, then let her go.

"Come on," I say, "Gallows and Serena are staring."

"Let 'em stare." She gives me an impish grin. "Give me a month and I'll have Gallows eating out of my hand."

I groan. "Not another word, McCool! This is how that business with Hardy got started!"

She pulls away from me. "You're right. Sorry." Then she waves and bounds off to the SUV, leaving me to trail along behind. That woman is a roller coaster.

Serena and Gallows are already in the SUV. Michelle shoots me a mischievous look and slides into the passenger seat beside Gallows just as I arrive. "What are you doing?" he demands.

"I called shotgun," Michelle says, clearly pleased with herself.

` Gallows frowns as I slide in to the backseat. "But…"

"It's fine, Luke," I say. "Michelle said she was feeling a little car sick back here, so we're trading for the next couple hours."

"Terrific," Gallows mutters.

"I knew you'd be pleased!" Michelle says with a grin. She immediately starts messing with the radio.

"Driver picks the station," Gallows says, pushing her hand away from the console.

"Fine," she says. "But pick something good, or I'm going to change it."

I try to hide my grin. This is going to be an interesting ride. I hope they don't kill one another. "Punk?" Serena asks, hesitantly.

I turn to her, tuning out the squabbling in the front of the vehicle. "Hmm?" She gnaws on her lip, looking unsure. "What's the matter, Serena?"

"I… It's nothing."

"It must be something. You've been pretty quiet ever since this morning."

She sighs. "Maybe we should move to the very back seat so we can talk?"

I raise my eyebrows at her, then shrug. "If you'd like." She slides out of her seat and moves to the one behind it, straight behind me. I only hesitate a moment before joining her. Michelle and Luke don't even notice; they're too busy arguing over the radio. "Are you all right?"

"I'm having some second thoughts," she confesses.

"About the straightedge society?"

She shakes her head. "About her." She indicates the front seat.

I sigh. "She's my friend, Serena. She asked me for help…"

"And she's helping us. I know. You've already said all this." She looks down. "But if she shaves her head and joins us, then where does that leave me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Right now, I'm the only girl in the SES. Once she joins us, I won't be special any more. She'll have all your attention, and everyone else's because she's Michelle McCool. No one's even going to look at me with her around."

"Is that what you're worried about?"

"Sort of." She looks up at me, and there are tears in her eyes.

"Hey," I say softly, brushing them away with my thumb. "Serena…" She takes a deep breath, then she leans forward and kisses me. I feel like my brain is about to explode. What is it with these girls kissing me, anyway?

Not that I'm thinking that as she pulls away and hides her head. "Sorry," I hear, though the word is muffled.

"Er. Um." I try to get my brain to function again. "I uh…" She won't look at me. "Serena?"

"What?"

"Can you quit hiding from me, please?" She takes a shuddery breath and finally pulls her head away from the seat back. She won't meet my eyes, though. "Talk to me."

"And say what?" she whispers. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

I lean close, but she cringes back, still not meeting my gaze. "I'm not sorry."

She raises her head and blinks at me. "You're not? But what about what you said to Michelle earlier, about not wanting to be with me because you're in a position of power?"

"I meant that I wouldn't try to force you into a storyline relationship, Serena. I didn't mean that we couldn't discuss something more… personal between us." I pause. "I thought you and Luke were getting together."

She chuckles. "Did you really?"

I shrug. "You guys spend a lot of time together."

"So do you and Michelle."

"We're just friends. She's still in love with Hardy, whether she'll admit it or not. And she's so not my type. I love her like a sister, but I'd kill her if we ever dated because she's so frustrating."

Serena smiles at me. "That's a real relief. I was worried that I'd never have a chance with you because of her being around all the time."

"Believe me, you've got a very good chance. In fact, you're the only one with a chance." I cup her cheek and pull her close for another kiss. It's blissful, beautiful, amazing…

"Hey!" Michelle calls from the front, "are you guys making out back there? What the hell?"


	17. Sorting Things Out

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 17: Sorting Things Out

Serena instantly pulls away and hides her head again, though this time, it's against my shoulder. I glare at Michelle and call back, "Well, we _were_, until a certain blonde diva interrupted us!"

"Sorry!" Michelle says with a laugh.

I slide my arm around Serena and grin. I can't help it; this feels right to me. "You don't look the least bit sorry, sunshine."

Michelle shrugs. "Whatever, Cuddle Monkey." She pauses. "And feel free to call him that, Serena! He secretly likes it!"

Serena looks up at me, eyes wide. "Cuddle Monkey?"

I smirk. "It doesn't bother me anymore."

"Still," Serena says, "it's her nickname for you." She glances at Michelle, but she's turned her attention back to Gallows. Strangely, he looks less annoyed about it than he should.

"Then you can make up your own if you want, beautiful."

"I'm not beautiful," she says immediately.

I sigh. "You are. But if that makes you uncomfortable, how about… raindrop?"

Serena chuckles. "Sunshine and raindrop? Sounds like I got the short end of that stick. Nobody ever likes the rain."

"I like the rain. It's much less harsh than the sun. Very soothing."

Serena seems to think about it before saying, "Okay then. I guess I'm raindrop?"

"I guess you are. Is that all right?"

"Yes," she says. "It's good."

I grin at her. "I guess this solves the Twitter problem."

Serena tilts her head. "What?"

"Er, you know," I say. "I wasn't going to force you into a storyline, but if it's a natural extension of our relationship…"

"Punk," she says, "you're still my leader. Doesn't that mean that it would still be weird for us to kiss in the ring?"

"Well, it would be a little weird," I agree, "but no more than us kissing here."

She glances toward Michelle and Luke, then back to me, her eyebrows raised. "Really? Because at worst here, we have an audience of two. Which is weird enough. But in the ring, it's millions."

I recall her reaction when Michelle asked if we were making out. "Ah." I pull her close and murmur in her ear, "Well, if you aren't comfortable with taking it public, that's okay."

"Thanks," she says, smiling at me. "It's just that I'm not sure what we're doing, you know? I mean, yeah, we kissed, but what does it _mean_?"

"What do you want it to mean?"

Serena sighs. "I don't know. I just know that I've been wanting to do that pretty much since the day we met."

I blink. "That long?"

"Mm hmm."

"Oh. Wow."

"Is that weird?"

I chuckle. "Well, maybe a bit. But it's not a bad thing." I glance up at Michelle and Luke. They seem to be getting along, which is scary. "Maybe we ought to discuss what it means later, when there are less ears around to hear it?"

"Okay," she says.

I lean my head against hers. "Right now, I'm content."

"Are you?"

"Yes. This just feels right, Serena."

"For me, too," she admits.

"You two!" Michelle calls back at us. "Whatever you're plotting, stop it! It's too soon for the straightedge society to take over the world!"

I grin at Serena and roll my eyes. "Too soon?" I call back. "I've been plotting the conversion of humanity for years, McCool. I say it's not soon enough!"

"Maybe you could limit yourself to one conquest a day, Cuddle Monkey," she says. "And I think you've met your quota for today."

Serena's eyes get huge. "Conquest?" she asks.

Uh oh. I glare at Michelle. "For your information, McCool, this is nothing of the sort."

Serena looks between me and Michelle. "I'm no one's conquest. I kissed him!"

Michelle grins at us. "I know," she says. "I saw the whole thing. Well," she glances at Gallows. "Most of it. I quit looking when it started to get heated. My poor eyes didn't need that burned on them forever. Luke was kind enough to keep an eye on you for me."

Gallows' ears are red. I can see that from here. "He should be watching the road," I point out. "Otherwise, we're all going to die. That would make this trip really suck, McCool."

"You have a point," she says with a grin. "So are you guys going to hold hands at the house show?"

"We always hold hands," I say.

"Yeah, but it'll be more significant."

"Only to us."

Serena chuckles. "I think it would get more comments if we didn't hold hands. People are so used to seeing it."

Michelle turns to Luke. "Wanna hold hands?"

"What?" he asks. "No! Geez, McCool, you're not a part of the straightedge society yet. Besides, you still have that Hardy thing hanging over your head."

"Yeah, but…" She pauses, a grin forming on her lips. "I have a very good idea."

"Oh no," I groan. "The last time you had one of those, I got dragged to the middle of nowhere and almost got into a fight in the airport."

"It worked out, didn't it?" she asks.

"That's not the point!"

"Of course it is," she says. "And anyway, this one doesn't involve you. At least, not directly." She's staring at Luke, that evil little smile on her lips.

"Punk?" he asks. "Should I be worried?"

"No," I sigh. "You shouldn't be worried, Luke. You should be _terrified_."


	18. Michelle's Plan

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 18: Michelle's Plan

Michelle doesn't share her plan with us, and by the time we reach the hotel, I can see that Luke has taken my words to heart. He keeps looking at her as though she's going to stab him in his sleep. Poor guy; she'd never be that blatant. I get us checked in and we trudge to the elevator as a group. The suite's nice. Michelle immediately claims the larger of the two bedrooms for the ladies. Since she's got the most stuff, it seems fair enough.

"We're going shopping now," she announces, before we've done more than set the bags down.

"Whoa, not so fast," I say.

"What?" She smiles innocently my way.

"I need to be in on whatever it is that you're planning."

Michelle grins and beckons me over to the table in the room's dining area. "Okay then. Come sit, and I'll lay it out for you."

I settle in the chair. "I should get Luke and Serena…"

"No," she says. "The less they know about this right now, the better."

I frown. "Michelle…"

"They don't trust me," she says. "This is going to make them trust me less."

"Uh oh."

She chuckles and settles in the seat across from me. "I'm glad that you're finally paying attention to Serena. Poor girl's been looking terrible since you told her about me."

"She has?"

Michelle shrugs. "Anyone could see she's completely in love with you."

"I couldn't."

"Anyone who's not cluelessly male, then." She glances around. "We can make that work for us. You're bringing me in, but the rest of the world doesn't have to know that. They can think it's Luke, in my case. I've been thinking about the Matt thing…"

I raise my eyebrows. "You have?"

"Sure. Creative can still give us a scene, only have it be a breakup instead of something else. That'd free me up, maybe give me another reason to look at you guys when you're out there, preaching your straightedge ways?"

"Hmm. Could work."

"So I join, and the next week, I approach Gallows and say I'm not all that convinced, that maybe it was the wrong thing to do."

Frowning, I say, "Wouldn't that undermine the whole thing?"

"No, see, because it would give him a chance to really talk to me on screen. Make straightedge sound noble and good, you know?" She chuckles. "And then, at the match that night, we'll cheat and undo whatever good will we've built up. But it'll make things look more legit for the audience, and it'll give them a jumping off point to me slowly falling in love with Gallows."

"What?" I'm not sure I've heard her right.

"It makes sense. He's talking me into staying in the straightedge society. He's saving me from a bad break up with Matt. He's… well, a stand in for you, basically."

"But you're not in love with me."

"No," she says, "you're fun to torment and tease, but I'm not." Looking down at the table, she continues. "But you were right before. I'm not over Matt, either. And I want to be. I have to see him every time I go to work. It's driving me crazy. I need to be distracted, and if I've got a fake relationship with Gallows, maybe I can concentrate on that and not think about Matt for a while."

"Maybe you should just tell Matt how you feel."

She smirks, lifting her eyes to meet mine. "He dumped me, remember? What makes you think he wants anything to do with me?"

"He called you at lunch."

"So we could talk about the Jericho thing."

I shrug. "Seems like he could have called me instead. He's got my number."

"Mm hmm, except you couldn't go on Twitter and look up what was being said."

"He could have read it to me."

"It's got more impact when you're staring at the black and white text, Cuddle Monkey."

"You know," I say, "Serena thought that once you joined the straightedge society, you would eclipse her and she'd never have a chance with me."

Michelle frowns. "Why would she think that?"

"Maybe because you keep calling me Cuddle Monkey?"

"Seriously? I don't mean anything by it."

"I know." I give her idea some thought. "You know it's going to freak Luke out to have you suddenly fixating on him, right?"

Michelle grins. "Yep. That's part of what makes the whole thing so great. He'll have to call his acting skills into use, so he can sell it. It'll be awesome."

"What about Matt? What are you going to tell him?"

She sighs. "That he'll be rid of me once and for all once we're done with our argument?"

"So no more Team Adorkable?"

She facepalms. "I can't believe he told you about that."

"He didn't really. He just said I was an honorary member, whatever that means."

"Ah." She stands up. "So now that I've shared my evil plan, can I please get Serena and go shopping?"

"You know she didn't really want to go, right?"

Michelle grins. "Oh, I know. That's why I'm taking her. I want her to understand that I have no designs on her man."

I run a hand through my hair. "Do you mean me?"

"You are her man, right?"

"Er, yes?"

She laughs. "Punk, after what I saw in the car today, you ought to sound more sure. That girl is in love with you, and if you don't let her know how you feel about her, then you're a fool. And I've known you long enough to know that you're no fool." Then, with a wink, she heads for the girls' bedroom. "Come on, Serena! Let's go buy me some killer eye make up and a sparkly top! I want to stand out in that sea of black you guys wear down to the ring every week!"

I groan. What had I gotten us into?


	19. Promo

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 19: Promo

Before I knew it, it was time for the next Smackdown taping. We'd rehearsed Michelle's induction as a group a half dozen times, even dragging Layla into it when Michelle needed to rehearse their falling out. Finally, when time was winding down, we called it good. Michelle cornered Matt and told him about the promo we needed and he agreed to it, although he didn't look happy about it. The promo is to air on Superstars, the night before her conversion.

I'm backstage with Layla, Matt and Michelle when they shoot the promo, shortly before the start of the show. It's weird listening to her talk about a match that hasn't been lost yet. The two divas are walking in from the front when the camera catches them. "What's the matter with you?" Layla snaps. "We haven't won a match since Wrestlemania!"

Michelle turns to her tag team partner. "It isn't my fault. Maybe if you held your own out there, we could win."

"Are you blaming me?" Layla demands.

"I wasn't even in that match!" Michelle says, "So yes, I am blaming you. You were running around like a chicken during your whole Manazon match!"

Layla's eyes narrow. "You know what, Michelle? Whatever. If you think you can do a better job on your own, then go ahead and do it." She storms off, leaving Michelle glaring after her.

"Hey," Matt says, and the camera swings his way. Michelle tries to pull up a smile, but she doesn't look happy.

"Hi, Matt," she says.

He clears his throat and looks the way Layla went before his gaze falls on Michelle again. "What was that all about?"

"Nothing." She looks up at him. "Just cutting the dead weight out of my life."

Matt frowns. "Layla's been your best friend a long time."

"So?" Michelle asks. "She's a loser." Matt's face is grim.

"Weren't you calling me a loser a couple of months ago?"

"So what? You're a winner now. That's all that matters."

"You're shallow, you know that?" He shakes his head. "What did I ever see in you?" He turns and walks away.

"Matt!" she calls after him, frowning. The promo ends.

"I hated that," he confesses to me.

"Yeah, but it'll go over huge on Superstars."

Matt sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "She's sure this is what she wants?"

I shrug, and it's Michelle who answers. "I'm sure. I've got to let people think you broke up with me, but for a good reason. It's the only way to make the straightedge thing believable."

Matt nods. "All right then." He nods to the pair of us, then mutters, "Good luck."

I turn to Michelle. "You guys are up first."

"Yeah," Michelle sighs, watching Matt leave. Then she turns to me. "At least that solves the Matt problem, right?"

I nod and give her a half hug. "Be brave, sunshine."

She smiles. "I'll certainly do my best. Are you ready, Layla?"

The other diva nods. "Ready to lose!"

I chuckle and follow the pair of them toward the entrance to the arena. I'm not surprised to find Matt waiting there. "Knock 'em dead, ladies," I say, as Layla and Michelle head out for the match that will splinter their tag team.

"It is wrong to admit that I'm worried about her?" Matt asks, turning to me once the two of them are gone.

"No," I sigh, "it's not wrong, but she's fine, Hardy."

Matt shrugs. "She's still angry about what happened, isn't she?"

"Wouldn't you be?"

"Probably," he admits. We're quiet while the match goes on. They make a good show of it, storming up the ramp when they lose, allowing time for the two to get backstage before the promo we'd shot airs. We normally wouldn't shoot it so close to the match, but the changes were kind of last minute in creative, and getting Matt involved took some doing. Still… "It looks good," he agrees grudgingly. "It looks really real. And final." We can hear the crowd reacting to the break up of both Team LayCool and Team Adorkable.

I sigh. "Thankfully." Matt shoots me a glare. "What?"

"Didn't know you were so glad to be rid of me, Punk."

"Oh yes," I say sarcastically, "you're just a thorn in my side. I meant thankfully it's believable."

Michelle glances at me, then sighs and gives Matt a quick hug before following Layla off to the locker room. Matt shoots me a wide eyed look. "I wonder what that was all about?"

"I think she feels bad that we had to use you in the promo," I admit.

Matt stares off the direction she'd gone before turning back to me. "We've got some time before either of us is needed again. Do you want to head to catering?"

I shrug. Despite everything, I like Hardy. We may not get along onscreen, but he's a decent guy. "Sure," I say. "Although once the straightedge society and Michelle get back there, it may get a bit weird for you."

"I'll manage," he mutters.

We head for catering, and pick out the empty table that the straightedge society usually ends up at. Since it's early in the show, very few people are back here. Most of them are preparing for matches or working out the last of the kinks in their scripts. Matt grabs a couple of water bottles, tosses me one, and sits down. "You're losing to McIntyre tonight?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says with a shrug. "The whole feud is idiotic."

"That's creative for you."

"At least I've got something to do, right?" he asks with a chuckle.

"Any screen time is good screen time," I confirm.

"Amen." He holds out his water bottle and I tap it with mine, smirking at the gesture.


	20. Straightedge Expansion

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 20: Straightedge Expansion

Matt loses, as planned. We're up directly after his match, which means that he and Michelle end up standing together, to wait for her cue. I head out to the ring with Gallows and Serena. Gallows has the chair, Serena has the clippers, and I'm full of the fire to convert people. We set up in the ring, and I start calling out to everyone, both in the arena and outside of it, taunting them. "I'm straightedge, and that means I'm better than you! I don't poison my body with alcohol or drugs! I don't abuse myself like you sorry people out there. Rey Mysterio needs to join us, he needs to make the commitment to save himself before it's too late. We could do so much good…"

Michelle's music hits as I'm mid-sentence. I pause, looking up the ramp as she storms down. She stops outside of the ring and glares up at us, taking a microphone from one of the stagehands. "I'm sick of you idiots!" If I didn't know better, I would honestly think she's been drinking. She does a convincing job, swaying and slurring her words just enough. "All you ever do is talk, talk, talk! You talk about how much better than us you are. You babble about your silly little organization."

"Oh, Michelle McCool," I say, shaking my head, "you've been drinking, haven't you? What's the matter? Are you starting to realize that maybe your life isn't so flawless, after all?"

She stares up at me, then tries to climb into the ring. She nearly falls and Luke grabs her arm, hauling her up. She pulls back from him, then slides between the ropes and stands in the ring with us. "What do you know about it?" she asks, getting in my face. We're nearly nose to nose.

I take a step back, fanning my face. "Your breath is a hundred proof," I tell her. "If they were smart, they'd throw you out of here right now."

She smirks at me. "You're afraid of me, aren't you?"

"Of course not," I say. "But your breath is rancid with alcohol and you're obviously impaired right now. Maybe you ought to go home and sleep it off." I pause. "Or maybe that's why you came up here. Maybe you've come to your senses and you want to join the straightedge society and accept me as your savior?" She snorts. "Luke Gallows did it, and he was in a worse place than you are, Michelle McCool. He was drowning in a sea of drugs and alcohol, and the people who should have cared to save him didn't. Come on, Michelle. Did you come to be saved?"

She stares at me for a long moment, then whispers into her microphone, "Yes." The crowd erupts.

"She has come to be saved!" I shout, smiling. "She's another one who has seen the light!" I motion for Gallows to set up the chair, and he does. Serena brings me the clippers, then maneuvers Michelle into the chair. I kneel down before the chair, and she looks down at me, her hair hiding her smile from the cameras. "If you really want to be saved, you need to make a sacrifice. Raise your hands with us and pledge to be straightedge and then we will shave your head."

She looks up, a hesitant expression on her face now. "My hair?"

"It's impure. I need to know you mean it. I need to know that you want to get clean, to no longer be under the influence of alcohol. I need you to pledge to us tonight that you will take me as your savior, that you will no longer poison your body and cloud your mind with harmful substances. I need to know that you're willing to live the straightedge lifestyle." By now, the three of us are raising our hands in the pledge.

She chews on her lip, then nods, raising her hands along with the rest of us. "Yes. I want… this."

I smile at her. Luke claps his hands down on her shoulders. It looks like he's holding her, though I can see that his hands are resting lightly. I pull out the clippers and turn them on. "Then let's make you straightedge, Michelle." She closes her eyes, and I carefully work the clippers through her hair. Even knowing she would go through with it, it seems weird to actually be doing it. The blonde locks fall to the floor in a pile as I run the clippers over her hair. "It'll grow back," I mutter, well away from the microphones.

She smiles and opens her eyes to look at me. "It's just hair," she mutters, so only I will hear.

When the pile of hair on the stage is complete, we "let" her up. "Look!" I call to the audience. "Another one saved! Another person who will no longer be subjected to the evils of alcohol and the horrible ruin that drugs and cigarettes can make of your life! We've brought another soul into the straightedge society, and we're not going to stop until everyone is converted!"

With the crowd booing, I jump down from the ring and take Serena's hand. Luke helps Michelle down, mindful of the fact that she's still "drunk." He's got a good grip on her hand as we head backstage. Hardy meets us just beyond the entry. "Wow," he says, reaching out to run a hand over her head. "Nice hair, Michelle."

She smirks. "I need a shower. It's itchy as hell."

"See you in catering?" I ask.

She grins. "I wouldn't miss it for the world tonight."


	21. Camaraderie

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 21: Camaraderie

Catering is a zoo. I don't think anyone believed she'd actually go through with it. When we get back there, everyone stops what they're doing and stares at us. I lead the group to our table, Matt trailing along. When Michelle arrives, it's silent. Finally someone- I have no idea who- starts to clap. Then, the next thing we know, the room is full of applause. Michelle grins at me and takes a bow before joining us at the table. "That was really something," Matt says, as he hands her a water bottle.

"Thanks," she says, grinning, "but it's all Cuddle Monkey. He did the actual hard work."

"There's no way I'd give up my hair," Matt says with a chuckle. "So you're much braver than I am."

"It's just hair!" she says. "Why does everyone think it's a huge deal?" She turns to me. "You're totally donating it to kids with cancer or something, right?"

"Yep," I tell her. "Don't worry, there's a charity lined up already."

"Good." She smiles. "As long as it's for a good cause, then who cares about hair, right?"

I touch my own locks. "Yeah."

Michelle smirks at me. "It's weird, seeing it like this, but I'll get used to it." She leans closer to me, "And you will too, if they decide you need to lose that hair match." I shrug. She turns to Serena. "Man, look out! There are some seriously hot bald women over here!"

Serena blushes, but most of the guys and girls at the other tables are laughing and whistling at the two of them. Tyson Kid jokingly tells Michelle, "For once, I have more hair than you."

She laughs. "Yeah, yeah. If you ever decide to shave that whacked out puffball off your forehead, give us a call. I'm sure Punk can zip that sucker away, no problem."

"Definitely," I say.

He laughs. "No thanks. I like my hair."

Michelle grins. "Can't say I didn't try." She takes a drink of her water, then looks over at me. "That was pretty crazy out there."

"Yes, it was. The promo seemed to play well, too."

"Mm." She nudges Matt. "You all right? You're being quiet."

"I'm fine," he says.

I look between the two of them, glad to see they're getting along again. "Good," she says. "I'm glad you're okay." Then she leans across the table to Gallows. "Thanks for catching me out there."

"It would have looked bad if I hadn't," he says.

Michelle smirks. "Yeah, that's why you did it."

Matt's watching the two of them, still quiet. I wonder if he's aware of the reason we needed him to do the promo tonight. Then I realize that I can't worry about Matt; he's an adult and he can take care of himself. We're friends, but it's not my job to keep him from getting hurt, right? Maybe if I believed that about him or Michelle, we'd be okay. Matt sees me watching him and says, "I saw a vending machine down the hall. Want to take a walk?"

I shrug. "Yeah, okay." I lean over and kiss Serena's cheek, then stand up and follow Matt out of the room.

It's quiet in the hallway. Seems like everyone's in catering again. "So you and Serena, huh?" he asks.

"Yep."

"When did that happen?"

I chuckle. "A couple days ago."

Matt nods. "Good for you. I always thought you two would hook up."

I know this isn't why he asked me to come with him. "What's up, Matt?"

He sighs. "I don't know. This whole thing seems so weird. I mean, Michelle joined the straightedge society, and I've got this feud with McIntyre to concentrate on, so we're going to be going different directions from here on out, I guess. And with the draft coming up… it just seems like everything's going to be different from now on."

"It is different," I say.

"And she's in there, flirting with Gallows. She hates that guy."

"They're actually getting along all right," I say.

Matt shakes his head. "That promo was brutal. The crowd loved it, but… it was bad."

"I know," I say. "And I'm sorry we had to ask you to do it, but we needed a way to show the fans that you and Michelle were over."

"It hurt," he confessed. "It still does."

I have to choose the next words carefully. "You're my friend, Matt."

"Uh oh," he says. "Those words always seemed to spell doom when you'd say them to Michelle."

I smirk. "You two really were made for each other." Damn it! That just slipped out. I see pain flicker across his face as he shrugs. "Sorry."

"At least someone still thinks that, right? So tell me, what horrible thing were you going to say with the 'you're my friend' routine? Or was that it?"

"No," I mutter, "that wasn't it. I'm glad you and Michelle are getting along again, but with your new storyline and her in the straightedge society now, you're probably going to be seeing less of each other."

"That's a given," he says, "considering how much time you guys spend out in the ring."

I nod. "I just wanted you to know, it's not personal. We're not trying to keep her from you."

"Oh, I know." He pauses by the vending machine. "She's doing that all by herself."

"I think she still feels hurt by what happened between the two of you."

"Did she say that?"

I shrug. "It's more of an impression."

"Oh." He sighs and digs out some quarters, feeding them to the vending machine, then he chooses the Pepsi button. We wait as it vends, and then he says, "I keep hoping it'll get better, that maybe one day I'll wake up and it never happened."

"Which part?"

"I don't know. Any of it?" He chuckles and grabs the Pepsi and hands it to me. "The last part especially, though. We were really good together, I thought."

"You were. I'd never seen that side of Michelle. I don't think anyone had."

"Maybe I should run her over with another box," he muses.

I chuckle. "Somehow, I think that's a bit extreme. Give her some time, and she'll work through it, and maybe you guys can try again."

"Yeah," he says, staring at the vending machine. "Maybe so."


	22. Completely Absurd

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 22: Completely Absurd

Luke and Serena go to get the car, leaving Michelle and I waiting together near the back door of the arena. "Suddenly, I'm glad we got these hoodies," Michelle mutters to me, as she slips on one of her "Flawless" hoodies, drawing the hood over her bald head. "I'm going to have to start wearing hats."

"You look fine," I tell her.

"It's not how I look," she says. "My head is cold. No one mentioned that my head would get cold!"

I chuckle. "I'll be sure and buy you a ski cap."

She eyes me. "I hope you're kidding. I don't know that you'd pick one out that worked with my coloring."

"I'd get black. It goes with everything."

"Black? What, you want me to look washed out?"

"Your hoodie is black," I point out.

Michelle rolls her eyes. "Whatever. It's dark charcoal."

"Which is black," I say.

"This is why you're not buying my hats," she answers. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"This conversation is absurd," I say to her. "You know that, right?"

"Completely," she agrees with a grin, "but so was shaving my head, so I guess we're even, right?"

"I suppose."

"So what did Matt want?"

I shrug. "World peace?"

"I'm being serious."

"So was I." She smacks my shoulder. "What does Matt ever want?"

"I wish I knew," she mutters.

We stare into the parking lot. "Just to talk," I finally say.

"He could talk in catering."

"Sure. But maybe he didn't want to."

"So what did he say?"

"Why are you asking me? Why don't you ask him?"

She sighs. "I did. He wouldn't tell me. He said that you guys got Pepsis and hung out."

"We did."

"Ugh. Well, did he say anything about me?"

"Your name might have come up."

"Punk!" she says, shooting me a dark look.

"It usually does."

"What did he say?"

"I couldn't tell you."

"You're really not going to tell me?"

"Nope."

"Ugh! You two are so frustrating!"

"So are you, sunshine," I say with a chuckle.

"I wish you'd quit laughing at me," she says.

"You're cute when you pout."

"Somehow, I don't think your girlfriend would like to hear you say that."

I smirk. "I'd hope she knows that I have no interest in you that way."

"She still probably wouldn't want to hear you say it."

I stare at Michelle, then shrug. "Point taken."

"Does this mean you're going to tell me what he said?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because this is the most absurd conversation ever, and if you really want to know, you should just ask him what he said."

"He won't tell me."

"And neither will I, so I guess the conversation is going to be a terrible secret, hanging over your head forever that will die with us." I smile at her. "Which is a pity, really, because it was so vital to that world peace that I was talking about earlier."

She glares at me. "Sometimes I really hate you."

"If that were true, sunshine, then you'd have hair right now," I say. She makes a frustrated noise just as Gallows and Serena pull up with the car. I saunter to the vehicle and pull the door open, pausing to look at Michelle, who is still on the curb, glaring daggers at me. "Are you coming? I'd hate for your head to get any more cold out here."

"I'd rather walk," she growls.

"But it's late and we both know you're not going to," I point out. "Besides, you and Serena are sharing a room again. So come on, just get in the car. We'll all grab dinner somewhere…"

"I'm furious with you." She says it so calmly that I squint, trying to see if she means it or not.

"Fine," I sigh. "I'll give Matt your regrets at dinner." And then I slide into the car.

Before I can say another word, Michelle has yanked open the back door. "Wait, Matt's coming?"

"I did say 'all'," I point out. To her glare, I add, "Yes. It's one of the things he and I talked about. So are you coming or not?"

She only hesitates a second before sliding into the seat beside Serena. "Where are we going for dinner?"

I shrug. "He said he'd call me and let me know as soon as he found a place."

"Well, why didn't you just say that when we were standing on the steps, waiting?"

"It was so much more fun this way," I say with a grin.

She turns to Serena. "Your boyfriend is an ass, do you know that?"

Serena shrugs. "Of course."

I pout, pretending to be hurt. To Luke, I say, "Women."

"You should have just told her that Hardy was coming," Luke says.

"Oh, so you're all against me, huh?" I smirk. "She's been in the straightedge society for less than three hours, and you all turn on me. Nice."

Gallows glances my way, his brow furrowed. "He's joking," Michelle informs him. "My God, Cuddle Monkey, your crew is way uptight, you know? You guys need to relax."

"I know," I say. "I guess I'm not much for fun at work."

"Well, that's gotta change," she says. "It's great and all that we're your bodyguards or whatever, but don't you think we ought to interject a little bit of amusement into it now and again?"

I make a face at her. "Like what? Your juvenile antics with Layla?"

"Hey! At least we have fun!"

"The mean girl stuff is so old, though."

"And yet you found it funny to tease me while we're hanging around." She smirks. "Ha. I win."

"As if."

Serena blinks. "Um, why is it when he's around you, Punk sounds like a thirteen year old girl?"

Michelle laughs. "I do not!" I say.

"You do," Michelle counters. "You so totally do."

"Only because you drag me down to your level, McCool," I mutter.

"Oh, whatever," she says.


	23. Dinner Out

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 23: Dinner Out

Matt calls me when we're about a mile away from the arena. "Did you guys leave yet?" he asks.

"Just left," I confirm.

"Okay," he says. "So there's this little restaurant I know about. They have great food. You want the directions?"

"Give them to Luke," I respond.

"Sure."

I hand the phone over to Luke and he gets the directions. When he's done, he closes the phone and hands it back. "It's not too far," he says to me.

"Good," Michelle says. "I'm starving."

I glance at Luke, who shrugs. Michelle and Serena seem to be having a mostly whispered conversation in the backseat, though there's some giggling going on, as well. Michelle seems determined to get along with the straightedge society. I'd say it's nice, but it kind of scares me. We pull into the restaurant not a moment too soon. Matt's already there, leaning against his rental car. He waits patiently for us to disembark, then leads us in. We're seated almost instantly and looking at menus. Matt leans over and says to me, "Look," indicating the menu.

I grin when I see what he's pointing to. There's a little Pepsi logo on the bottom. "You are a lifesaver, Matt Hardy."

Matt chuckles. "I thought you would appreciate that, Punk."

Once the drinks arrive and the food is ordered, the conversation turns toward other things. "So Matt," Michelle says, leaning over Gallows, "what did you and Punk talk about when you went to the vending machine?"

I sigh. "You might as well just tell her. She's been bugging me about it the whole night."

Matt raises his eyebrows at me, then turns to Michelle. "Guy stuff."

Michelle glares at the both of us. "Fine, don't tell me."

"We won't," Matt says, taking a sip of his Pepsi.

Michelle turns to Gallows. "So that song that was on the radio before we came in was interesting." Gallows looks at her blankly. He seems to spend a lot of time with that expression on his face where Michelle's concerned.

"Was it?" he finally asks.

"Sure."

"Which song was it?"

Michelle frowns. "The one that was on."

Gallows shrugs. "Okay."

I clear my throat. "Anyway, with the way our storyline looks to go, this is probably going to be the last real downtime we get like this."

"Why?" Michelle asks, her attention suddenly on me.

"We're going to do a lot of building up to the next pay per view," I say. "We've only got so much time to make things work. Especially when there are new angles involved." I look pointedly at Michelle.

"Oh," she says, nodding. "You mean that thing we were talking about the other night."

"Yes," I say. "Did you tell…"

"No," she says, before I can even finish the thought.

"Oh. Hm. Well, don't you think you ought to?"

"Not really," she says, grinning.

Matt is watching us like we're a ping pong ball match. Gallows has a frown on his face, like he should know what we're talking about, but he doesn't. Serena's the only one who doesn't seem to care. She's leaning against me and watching Michelle with an amused expression. I wonder if they were talking about Michelle's plans in the back of the car. "All right then," I mutter.

There's an awkward silence that ends when our food arrives. We fall upon it like ravenous wolves. I notice that Michelle keeps shooting glances at Matt, like she wants to say something but isn't sure she ought to. Luke is the one that breaks the silence finally. "Why are you leaning against me like that?" he asks her.

Michelle blinks and straightens up. "I'm not."

"Yes, you were."

"Children," I say, "stop fighting."

Matt grins. "Are they always like this?"

"It was worse at the start," I say. "This is them getting along."

Michelle glares at me. "We get along fine," she says. "Don't we, Lukey?"

"Did you just call me Lukey?" Luke asks in disbelief.

"Er, yes?" Michelle says, batting her eyes at Luke.

"Don't," he says. "As nicknames go, that one sucks."

"Would you prefer baldy?"

Luke glares at her. "Would you like to be called baldy?"

"Of course not! Unlike you, I've got some hair left." She brushes her hood back so she can run her hand over it. "It's fuzzy."

"So I should call you fuzzy, then?"

"It wouldn't bother me," Michelle says with a grin. "But other people might think it's kind of mean. Go ahead."

"Don't do it, Gallows," Matt advises. "It's a trap."

"Why are you even here, anyway?" Luke asks, turning to Matt. "If you and McCool were still dating, I could understand, but you aren't."

Matt shrugs. "I invited you guys. So it's not a question of why I'm here. It's a question of why you're here."

"I'm here because of Punk."

Matt spread his hands. "There you go."

Luke still looks perplexed by the whole thing. "Just once," I mutter, "I'd like to get through a dinner without everyone fighting."

"I guess you'll have to wait for a dinner alone with me, then," Serena says, snuggling against me, "because you aren't going to get it as long as those three are at the same table."

"You may have a point," I say to her. "Maybe we should move to a different table and let them fend for themselves?"

Serena shrugs. "The food's already here and so are we. Might as well make the best of it."

I look over at Matt, Luke and Michelle and sigh. She's right. "Well," I say to Serena, "at least we get dinner and a show tonight."

"That's more than you can say about most nights," she agrees.


	24. Second Thoughts

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 24: Second Thoughts

What can I say about dinner? Luke, Matt and Michelle squabbled through it like a bunch of kids while Serena and I watched. It wasn't unpleasant, just… different. By the end of the meal, Luke was the only one who wasn't smiling. Matt seemed to be amused by Michelle's attempts to engage Luke in conversation. Her attempts to flirt with Luke were met with either silence or a perplexed look, which had Matt smirking. Maybe he really is getting over her, after all.

Eventually, though, we had to call it a night. We drove back to the hotel, Matt in his car and the straightedge society in the SUV. It was a short drive, but the car was quiet. Even Michelle was subdued for once. "Are you all right?" I finally ask her, when we're almost to the hotel.

She sighs. "I don't know, Punk," she says.

"Well then, what's the matter?"

"Maybe we ought to talk about it later."

That wasn't the answer I was expecting. I shrug. "Okay."

When Luke pulls in at the hotel, he turns and looks at me. "Serena and I will head inside."

Strangely enough, I think he's starting to pick up on Michelle's moods. "Thanks," I say. He nods and gets out. Serena gives me a quick kiss and follows Luke. Then it's Michelle and I in the SUV, alone. And she's not saying a word. "Sunshine?" I say.

Michelle sighs again. "I thought this would be easy, you know?"

"No," I say, perplexed. "I have no idea what we're talking about."

"This thing with Luke and Matt and you."

"Um, as far as I know, there is no thing with Luke, Matt and me."

She smirks. "I want to make this work, Punk. I want to do the storyline, the way we set it out. That I'm over Matt and falling for Luke. But it's harder than I thought it would be. Luke and I have nothing in common. I'm not even sure he has a sense of humor. There's hope for Serena. She's been different ever since you started paying attention to her. But Luke? He's just so… so bland."

"He's not that bad," I say.

"Maybe not when he's alone with the straightedge society, but when we were sitting in the restaurant tonight, Matt shone and Luke… didn't."

"You can't compare them."

"I know," she says, "because they're in totally different leagues."

"And you're still in love with Matt."

"That too," Michelle mutters. "So help me out, Punk."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know! Help me forget about Matt. I don't want to think about him any more. It's just too painful."

I frown. "That's a big task, sunshine. I'm not sure I'm the right man for the job. And anyway, maybe you shouldn't be trying to forget him."

"What else can I do? Thinking about him hurts."

"Then let it hurt. It will scab over eventually and then…"

"What? I'll find someone new? I'll go on with my life? I'll be happy?" She shakes her head. "And do you know the worst part of it? I can't even drink to forget."

"That's the worst of it?"

"Right now? Yeah, it is."

"See," I say, "this is the problem. It's not that you can't handle the pain, it's that you're used to dulling it with things that you don't need. You're killing yourself with poisons..."

"Not anymore," she says sarcastically. "Straightedge is making sure of that." Wow, does she sound bitter!

"I think we could all use a good night's sleep."

"I agree. Too bad I haven't had one since this whole thing started." She pushes open her door. "Thanks anyway."

I follow her out of the SUV, hitting the automatic lock button on the way out. Michelle heads across the parking lot, away from the hotel. I have to jog to catch up with her. "Michelle? Where are you going?"

"For a walk. I need to clear my head."

"I'll come with you."

"No," she says, turning to look at me. "You're not invited. I need some time alone to think."

"I'm not going to feel good about you being out here alone at night."

She snorts. "I can take care of myself, Punk. I've gone on thousands of midnight strolls and never once had a problem."

"Knowing my luck, I'll let you go alone and tonight will be that one night."

"I mean it," she says. "If you follow me, I will kick your ass."

"I'm not afraid of you."

"I'll make your life hell."

I chuckle. "You already do that."

"Just leave me alone, Punk." She turns on her heel and walks away. I actually debate following her for a moment. In the end, I know that I have no choice in the matter. She may kick my ass, but I'm not letting her go out alone in the middle of the night. Not just because she's part of the straightedge society, but because she's my friend, and I would never forgive myself if anything happened to her.


	25. Thinking

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 25: Thinking

There's a chill in the air. Not surprising, as it's barely spring. I pull my hoodie closer around me and try to be quiet as I follow Michelle through the streets. She finds a park about six blocks from the hotel. It's not a big park- I can easily see the pond in the middle from the road. Michelle makes a beeline for the pond and settles on the grass, her gaze on the water. Despite how cold and uncomfortable it is out here, I'm glad I came, as Michelle seems lost in thought. You could probably land a jet next to her and she wouldn't notice. Luckily for me, I've got a good vantage point near a huge tree. From here, she's a dark colored lump against the water. Then again, I probably look the same way from anyone who might be looking in my direction. It's surprisingly peaceful.

Or it was, anyway, until my cell phone starts to ring. I hit the silence button and check the screen. It's Serena, probably wanting to know where we are. "You may as well answer it, Punk," Michelle calls to me. I look up to see that she's staring in my direction.

I sigh and push the answer button. "Hello?"

"Are you and Michelle coming up?"

"We'll be up eventually," I say. "We went for a walk."

"Oh." Her voice sounds weird over the phone. "Okay." She hangs up without another word.

I stretch and walk over to Michelle. "You suck at tailing people," she informs me. "I knew you were there the whole time."

"Why didn't you say so?"

"Because I appreciated the illusion of privacy?" she says with a shrug. "Was it Luke or Serena?"

"Serena."

"Oh. Sorry." She stands up. "We'd best get back before she starts to think there's something going on."

I frown. "Like what?"

Michelle smirks. "Why are guys so clueless?"

"I have no idea how to answer that."

"I know," she says. "Come on. Though trust me, buy her flowers tomorrow."

"O-kay."

"And take her out to that dinner you two were talking about. Someplace nice, Punk. Not Denny's."

"I don't even like Denny's. They don't have Pepsi."

She rolls her eyes. "Just let her pick, and don't whine if they don't have Pepsi. You can choke down Sprite or something for one night. It won't kill you, I promise."

"You sound as though you think she's going to be upset with me."

"I would be," she says, shrugging. "You said you'd be right up, and she calls and you tell her we're out somewhere else entirely together, and you didn't call and let her know? Yeah, I'd definitely be upset in her place."

"It isn't like that," I say, "and she knows it isn't."

"Maybe in her head, but in her heart, she probably needs reassurance. You should have just gone up to the room without me."

"No," I say. "There's no way I'm going to let you be alone in a strange city while you're wandering in a park in the middle of the night."

"Yeah," Michelle mutters, "that would make you a terrible friend. But you still should have called and let her know what was going on so she wouldn't worry."

"Do you think she's worried?"

"Did she sound worried on the phone?"

I consider. "Possibly? She did seem a little weird."

"You know what I think is funny?" she asks.

"Hmm?"

"You've always seemed to know the answers, and I always thought you were wise." She chuckles. "But you're kind of clueless."

"Thanks," I say sourly.

Michelle grins. "You always seem to know the answers when it comes to Matt, anyway."

"Guys are easier to figure out than girls. Guys are pretty straightforward. They want attention, they want food, or they want sleep. Girls are complex, and I'm never sure what they want."

"Mostly the same things," she says, "though sometimes, they don't even know what they want. But I'd put my money on your girlfriend wanting you to spend more time with her than you do with me."

"I do," I protest. "I spend plenty of time with Serena."

"As a part of the group, sure," Michelle says. "But alone? You guys are always around me and Luke. I think she'd like to have your full attention now and then. And not just when we're driving to a new venue or I'm picking on Luke at restaurants."

I frown, considering her words. "Do you think I'm ignoring her?"

"It doesn't matter what I think; it matters what Serena thinks. And yes, I do think you're ignoring her. Maybe next time you should take her for a walk instead of trailing me. Or what the hell, bring her along on your spy missions." She makes a face. "At least then, she won't think we're out here making out or something."

"She doesn't think that!" I protest. "At least, I hope she doesn't."

We reach the hotel and Michelle breaks the silence. "Dinner, tomorrow night, just you and Serena. Someplace nice. And try not to spend the whole night talking about work, Punk."

"What should we talk about, then?"

"What do you ever talk about?" she asks with a grin.

"Work," I mutter.

She smirks at me and steps into the elevator. "Coming?"

"I think I'll take the stairs."

"See you up there."

The doors close and I head for the stairs. It's not that I need the exercise, it's that I need the time to think.


	26. Dating Is Hard

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 26: Dating Is Hard

Michelle may be right. That's what I'm thinking when Serena and I get out of the car and head into the restaurant. The ride over was quieter than usual. But then again, usually Luke and Michelle are there, and she's always talking. Incessantly, it often seems. I push that out of my mind as we're seated, and once we've ordered, we're alone. I look at Serena. She looks back at me. I have no idea what to say. Michelle may be right, but I'm not about to say so, and nothing else is coming to mind right now.

After we get our drinks (Sprite), I clear my throat. The silence is terrible. What did we used to talk about? Work. What else is there? "So, um," I try. "It was a nice day." Serena nods. And… yeah. Nothing. I stare at the table. "Wow, this is harder than I thought."

"What is?" she asks.

I shrug. "Not talking about work."

"Oh. Is that why you're so quiet?" she asks. "I thought maybe…"

"What?"

She bites her lip. "I thought you wanted to break up."

I stare at Serena, dumbfounded. "Why would you think that?"

She toys with her glass. "Well, you and Michelle have been spending a lot of time together…"

"As usual," I mutter.

"And last night, you went out for a walk with her and when you came back, she kept trying to get you to ask me out to this dinner. So I thought…"

I feel like smacking myself, but I'm afraid she'll take that wrong. "Serena," I say, "she was trying to get me to spend some time with you. We didn't go for a walk together; she stormed off and I followed her because she's my friend and I'd feel bad if she got mugged on my watch. As soon as you called, she started telling me that I was screwing up with you. I guess she was right."

"So you're not going to say we should just be friends?"

"Is that what you want?"

"No."

"Thank God," I say. Serena blinks at me, then grins. "But the problem with not talking about work is still there."

"Why shouldn't we talk about work?"

"I have no idea," I say. "What else is there?"

"Michelle."

"I feel like she's taken over every aspect of my life at this point. I ought to just make it official and turn over my appointment book and start calling her my personal assistant."

Serena laughs. "I think she'd smack you."

"Probably. She does a lot of that." We share a grin. "Okay, no more Michelle."

"Then what?"

"What do people usually talk about when they do this?"

"Do what?" she asks.

"Date."

"Oh." She frowns. "Well, it's been a while. I don't have a lot of people asking me out, since… Well, most of them kind of assume I'm with you."

"They do?"

She shrugs. "I guess it's all that clinging the writers have me doing?"

I smirk. "By all means, keep that up." Serena smacks me on the shoulder. "Ow. Hey! That's it, no more hanging out with Michelle for you."

She grins. "Sorry. My boss says I have to."

Well, she's got me there. I make a face. "Your boss is a harsh taskmaster, then. And seriously, you girls ought to lay off the abuse. Luke may start to get ideas if you keep that up."

"He'd better not," she says.

"Ah, well, maybe you could tell Michelle to lay off hitting me, too?"

"You're adorable, you know that?"

I blink. "Where did that come from?"

"Because you think me telling Michelle to stop hitting you would make a difference. Besides, usually when she does it, she has a good reason."

"Oh?" I raise my eyebrows at her. "And what is that?"

"You're usually being a pain."

"So you advocate Punk abuse? Nice."

"Within reason," she says, grinning.

"Mm, I see." I pause. "You know, we suck at this not talking about work or Michelle thing."

Serena gets this look on her face. "Almost as much as Luke sucks at synchronized screaming?" she asks.

"I… what?" Serena laughs. "Where did you…?"

"Michelle," she says, still grinning. "You know, Punk, when you first told me about her joining us, I thought having another woman in the straightedge society would be the worst thing that could happen to me. But since she's been around, this has been the most fun I've had in forever. Who knew Michelle McCool was so smart and funny?"

"She does hide it well," I mutter.

"Yeah," Serena agrees. "But we've done some talking, she and I, and I'm starting to think this may have been the best move ever for the straightedge society and I'm wondering why we didn't expand it sooner."

"Well, it wasn't from a lack of trying."

She nods. "I just wish people knew we aren't sheep, that we're able to do fun things that don't involve drinking and drugs, you know?"

"I'm sure some of the people you want to convince might not think there's any such thing as fun without drinking and drugs."

She frowns at me. "Don't turn into work Punk on me. He's too preachy and I already see enough of him every week."

"Sorry," I say, smiling apologetically. "It's getting to be a habit."

"I wish they'd let you go back to being a face," she sighs. "The message is a good one, but they're not going to listen to it if it's a punchline, week after week."

"The ones that believe will listen either way," I say. "And the ones that don't, won't. It doesn't matter if they're cheering or booing, honestly. Someone's got to be the villain, and it may as well be me." I grin. "Besides, I've got a job where I people pay me money to say I'm better than them, and I've got you with me. It's the best job in the world."

"Aw," she says, leaning against me and smiling. "I'm sorry I smacked you earlier."

"It's all right." I put my arm around her. "I probably deserved it."


	27. Disturbing Behavior

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

A/N: Covering some time here, mostly because I'd forgotten about the Europe travel. Poor superstars. I bet they wish they could forget it, since it seems they all had 30+ hour travel days on that trip.

Something To Believe In

CH 27: Disturbing Behavior

Despite the rocky start, dinner was nice. The Sprite didn't kill me and when we stop at the gas station, Serena returned to the car with two Pepsis. We ended the night with a stroll in the park before heading back to the hotel. Luke and Michelle had already retired to their respective parts of the suite, leaving Serena and I alone to watch a movie on the couch. She fell asleep against me halfway through the movie and I ended up having to wake her when it was time for me to go to bed, which she seemed to think was embarrassing but I thought was adorable.

The next day, we were off to Europe. Michelle and Serena spent a lot of time, whispering and giggling. Surprisingly, it didn't make me as nervous as it used to. We finished out our tour and managed to get home safely. As a result of the volcano eruption, the Raw superstars got stuck in Europe and we had to do their show on Monday as well as our own Tuesday Smackdown taping. On Monday, Rey Mysterio and Triple H managed to cut a lock of my hair, causing me to act panicky for the camera and the straightedge society to close ranks around me and "save" me from them.

We played everything off great as a group, but Michelle seemed no closer to her "romance" with Luke. I was starting to wonder if she'd be able to pull it off. Probably not, if she didn't clue him in that they were supposed to be having it. Every scene they did together, Luke looked bewildered. It wasn't his fault, really; Michelle could have that effect on a person.

When we got to the arena for the Smackdown taping, Michelle and Serena went immediately to the locker room to do whatever mysterious thing it is they do when we tape. I know it seems to involve a lot of laughing and telling me to get lost when they're talking. I've taken to wandering to catering during the first hour we're in an arena. It's just easier. And it's usually when I end up talking to Hardy.

Tonight's no different. Matt sits down and I take out my earbuds. "Hardy."

"Punk." We nod to one another, that ritual finished. "How's Michelle?"

"The same as ever. She and Serena are plotting the downfall of society."

"We'll all end up straightedge before the year's out."

I chuckle. "Only if I can convince them to work with me. I think they're plotting against me, though."

"You don't seem too concerned about it."

I shrug. "What can you do?"

Matt smiles, but it's brief. "I'm glad she's doing so well. You've been great for her."

"So were you." I don't know what makes me say it. It's Matt's turn to shrug. He looks like he's about to go, on that note. "So how's feud with McIntyre?"

"I hate that guy," Matt mutters.

"I don't think you're alone in that."

Matt nods. "Should be headed somewhere interesting tonight. You going to watch?"

"We always do."

Matt hesitates. "Maybe you shouldn't."

I tip my head, curious. "Why not?"

"I…" Matt shakes his head. "You know how sometimes, you think one thing's going to happen and then something else happens instead?"

"I think they call that 'life', Matt."

Matt smirks at me. "I was wrong before. This time, I'd hate to be right." He stands up. "Good seeing you as always, Punk."

"Wait." I stand up. "What did you mean?"

Matt shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. I'll see you around, Punk." He holds out his hand and I stare at him, eyes narrowed, trying to gauge what it is he wants from me. Finally he sighs and drops his hand, shaking his head, and walks to the door. I follow. Because that was weird and not like Matt Hardy at all. He turns around and looks at me when we're in the hallway. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out what that was. Are you on drugs or something, Matt?"

Matt smiles at me. "No."

"Why are you smiling?"

"How long have we known each other, Punk?"

I frown. "A while. Why?"

"Because you're calling me Matt and it only took… what? Three years? Four?"

I smirk. "I've called you Matt before."

"Yeah, sure. When Michelle was around, maybe. But not… Oh, forget it." He waves to me and starts down the hall again.

I catch up and lay a hand on his shoulder. "What's going on with you tonight? You seem… a little off."

Matt smiles, but it looks sort of twisted and unhappy on his face. "It's nothing, really. I'm just questioning everything in my life. I had no idea when this year started that I'd be feeling lovesick for Michelle McCool and consider C. M. Punk- the man that ended my brother's WWE career- my best friend."

"Ah." I frown. "And we've been distant. Look, Matt, I'm sorry…"

"Forget it," he says, waving the thought away. "It's cool, Punk. I've got a match to get ready for, and you and the straightedge society have to prepare to mock the public." He chuckles. "We're just in different places right now. I get it. Maybe when things settle down again, you can come out to my house again sometime. Bring Serena, if you want. I'd invite Michelle, too, but she's probably still pissed at me for being an ass."

"She's surprisingly forgiving."

"Well, whatever. Just think about it."

"Yeah, I will." I pause. "Tell Jeff I said hi." And yeah, I know how weird that sounds, coming from me. Especially since it had been an insult, not so long ago.

Matt grins. "I will. Promise." We stand there a moment longer, and Matt looks as though he's going to go. I think back to catering, and his offer of a hand. He doesn't hesitate when I offer mine, though. Instead, he shakes my hand, then pulls me into kind of a half hug. "Promise you'll take care of Michelle for me." The words are soft and at first, I wonder if I've heard him right. "Promise me, Punk."

"I promise."

He lets me go, and I can see he's relieved. The smile seems less strained and more genuine now. "Thanks. You're a good friend." I shrug, still feeling weirdly uncomfortable with his behavior. "I'd better go get ready. See you later, Punk." He waves and heads for his locker room, leaving me stranded in the hall, alone and wondering.


	28. Matt

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 28: Matt

Though it nags at me through our preparations, I soon manage to push Matt's weird behavior to the back of my mind, assuming he's just tired like the rest of us. Michelle's the exception; as usual, she seems almost demonically chipper. We film our promo with Teddy Long, then get ready for the rest of the show. Our promo plays between the first two matches. We're hanging in the locker room, waiting for our match and watching the other matches, and I notice that Luke may finally have clued in to Michelle's attention. He keeps glancing at me, as though he's trying to figure out if I'm seeing what he is. I pretend not to notice.

Everything seems to be going well. All is right with my little family for once. Until Matt's match, that is.

Michelle sits forward, like she always does when Matt's on. I don't even know if she knows she's doing it, but Serena glances at me and grins. I curl my arm around my girlfriend, winking at her, and turn back to Michelle when I hear her let out a gasp. "What?"

"I…" Michelle shakes her head. Her face is ghostly white.

Of course, they replay it. Multiple times. Drew McIntyre, placing Matt's head on the steel steps and doing a modified curb stomp. By the first replay, Michelle looks sick. She rushes from the locker room. I look helplessly at Serena. "Go on," she says softly. "Go after her."

Chasing Michelle through the arena is like chasing a shadow. She's long gone by the time I reach the curtain. I can see her, ringside. The ref has already rung the bell and Drew is attacking him a second time, screaming about never wanting to see Matt again. Michelle is surprisingly strong. She pushes Drew away from Matt and crawls onto the ground next to him, cradling his head in her lap. Drew sneers at her, but by then, the ref has control of things again and is calling for the medics. The cameras catch Michelle's tears and Matt's incoherent mutterings and rolling eyes. She doesn't have her hair to hide behind, a fact I'm silently cursing as the tapes roll.

At least they're quick to get Matt onto a stretcher—once Michelle realizes that they're trying to help him, that is. Watching her fight to keep him safe is heartbreaking. She's got his hand as they roll him backstage. They're taking him to the ambulance that they keep on hand for such emergencies. Michelle sees me and seems to debate before letting go of his hand and starting in my direction. "Punk…"

"Go," I say, nodding toward the ambulance. "And call me and let me know he's okay."

The look of relief on her face is painful. Then she's pushing her way into the ambulance with, "I'm his girlfriend," to the paramedics, which makes me smile, a little sadly. When they pull out, I head back to the locker room.

"Is he going to be okay?" Serena asks.

"I don't know," I tell her. "Michelle went with him, and she'll call us when she knows anything."

Serena nods. "We're going to go on, business as usual, then?"

I shrug. "Not much else to do, is there? We've still got a match to fight."

"I suppose so."

We watch the rest of the matches before ours in silence before heading down to the arena. Luckily, we're the last match being filmed. I somehow manage to spout the usual beforehand, and Luke and I put on a solid match with Rey Mysterio and Kane. We end victorious, though Rey knocks me into the barber's chair that is set up outside the ring and Serena jumps in to protect my hair from Rey and the clippers. We scurry to the back, giving Rey looks of horror that aren't hard to fake. Once we hit the back, though, I find out where the ambulance took Matt and we pile into the car and head that direction. Luke's driving, since he seems the calmest of the three of us. I check the message Michelle left for me while we were in the match. "Concussion," I mutter to Serena, who nods.

We must look weird, making our way to the desk in the hospital. Visiting hours are over, but the night nurse has a son who's a fan. We sign autographs for her and in exchange, she lets us through to where Michelle is waiting, her face freshly scrubbed and her eyes red. When she sees us, she crumbles and puts her head against my shoulder, a muffled sob escaping her. I'm reminded of Wrestlemania and the last time Matt made her cry. Giving Serena a helpless look, I slide an arm around Michelle and pull her over to the chairs so we can sit. "He's going to be okay," I tell her.

"I know," Michelle says, the words muffled against my shoulder.

Serena sits down on the other side of Michelle and pats her shoulder. "Sweetie," she says, and Michelle releases me and clings to Serena. She looks a lot less helpless in this situation than I did, her arms instantly going around Michelle. "It's all right. It's going to be okay."

Luke looks really uncomfortable. "Maybe you should go find us some coffee?" I suggest, and the relief on his face would be comical under different circumstances. He nods and heads off. Maybe he's looking for coffee, or maybe he's going to abandon us here. I don't know and right now, it doesn't really matter.

Michelle wipes her eyes and looks at me. "I'm sorry, Punk."

"For what?"

"Leaving." She looks up at me, tears swelling again. "I know I had a job to do, but…"

"Michelle," I say, reaching out to take her hands, "I'm only going to say this once. Matt is more important than a stupid storyline. You did the right thing by leaving."

She frowns. "But…"

I shake my head. "No buts. Not tonight. We can deal with it tomorrow, okay? As long as Matt's okay, that's what matters."

She nods, though she looks miserable. "When we were down on the floor of the arena, I was so scared. I wasn't sure how badly hurt he was. He was babbling a lot of things…" She looks up at me, her eyes red. "And I didn't think he knew I was there. But at one point, he managed to focus on me, and he smiled." I nod. "And…" She bites her lip.

"What is it?" I ask.

She closes her eyes. "And he says, 'Tell Punk I was wrong.'" My mind goes back to the cryptic conversation we'd had in the hallway before the taping. But Michelle's not done. "And I say, 'About what, Matt?' I figure he's babbling, but he's got that smile still, despite it all. He looks straight up at me and says, 'I love you, Michelle.'"


	29. Changes

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

CH 29: Changes

They release Matt to go home about an hour later. He's got the straightedge entourage helping him to the car, which must look funny to anyone coming into the emergency room. I hope they're not wrestling fans who post this all over Twitter; God knows we've had enough problems with it to last me a lifetime. Somehow, we make it to the SUV. Michelle and Serena sit in the back with Matt, keeping an eye on him. Michelle tries to keep him engaged in conversation, telling him some weird story- it might be the plot of a movie, or she might just be babbling. I have no idea.

Luke pulls up to the hotel and we pile out, with Luke and I shouldering most of Matt's weight. Serena parks the car without being asked. "You're staying in our suite tonight," I tell Matt, when he asks about his room. "No offense to anyone else, but I don't trust your roommate to keep you awake." I eye Michelle. "And McCool looks like she's going to keep everyone up tonight if you're not in the suite."

Michelle ignores me. I take that as a sign of how worried she is. "I'll stay with him," she volunteers.

"I'm shocked," I tell her.

She rolls her eyes at me. "Whatever, Punk."

We take the elevator. Serena beats us to the room somehow. Maybe because the elevator is slower than a snail. Anyway, she's got the door open when we arrive, so we don't have to dig for our keys. Luke and I drop Matt on the couch gently. Michelle's practically wringing her hands. Luke takes one look at her and retires to our half of the suite. I pull Serena aside. "Can you do me a favor?"

"What?"

I glance back at Michelle. "She's not helping here. Pull her into the other room and get her to calm down somehow?"

Serena stares at me. "Oh, so long as it's nothing hard," she mutters. "And how the hell am I supposed to do that?"

I sigh. "Get her to take a shower, for one."

"She didn't wrestle," Serena points out, "and me telling her to take a shower because she stinks is both rude and untrue."

"Look," I say, "I know that. But she's going to spend the whole night awake with him. I'd like it if she were calm before she does that. Get her to take a shower and figure out how to relax a little. He's fine, he's not dying."

"I'll try," Serena says finally. "But you're going to owe me big." We head back to the couch, where Michelle is fussing more than usual. Serena shoots me a look, then turns to Michelle. "Honey," she says gently, "come on. Why don't you come with me?"

"What?" Michelle says, looking up at her. "Why?"

"You're getting Matt covered in glitter," she points out.

Michelle frowns and stares at the glitter. "Oh."

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up. You can wash it off and come right back."

"Oh." Michelle frowns, but lets Serena help her up. "Okay."

When they're gone, I drop into one of the wing chairs. Matt says, "Thanks."

"For what?"

He half smirks at me. "Man, my head is killing me. Don't make me spell it out."

I stare at him. "Did you know that this was going to happen tonight, Hardy?"

Matt shrugs, wincing. "Let's just say I had an idea that something might."

I think back to the conversation we had in the hall before the taping. "Michelle said you wanted me to know you were wrong. You said right before the taping that you hoped you were. What were you wrong about?"

Despite the pain, he gives me a beautiful smile. "She was holding my head and crying, and I heard her say it. 'I love you, Matt.' After everything that's happened, she loves me. I didn't think she did. Not anymore."

I sit back in the chair. "You two are going to be the death of me."

Matt chuckles. "I hope not."

"This had better be the last time you make her cry like that, or so help me…" I growl.

"Happy tears only from now on, I swear," Matt says.

"You know this means I'm going to have to kick her out of the straightedge society, right? Unless you're planning to join?"

Matt grimaces at me. "I'm not going to shave my head. Especially not this week."

I grin. "Too bad. That could have been interesting."

"Maybe we can feud about it when I'm done killing Drew McIntyre."

"Maybe I'll help you," I say. "Even though it goes completely against the storyline."

"Nah, just trip him in catering or something."

"Deal."

Matt grins and glances toward the door that Michelle had gone through. "I'm going to be out for a bit."

"I made you a promise," I say, "and even if she's no longer straightedge, I'm going to keep it."

"Good." He winces. "And when all of this mess is over…"

"I will be taking you up on your offer," I say. "A weekend in the country will be very welcome by then."

Michelle comes through the door then, looking scrubbed and beautiful and less like she's on her last nerve. "What are you guys talking about?" she asks.

Matt smiles at her. "How I'd like to get Team Adorkable back together… if you're open to it."

Michelle settles on the couch beside him, a serious look on her face. "You scared me half to death, Matt. I thought Drew was going to kill you out there."

"I'm sorry," he says. They're staring into one another's eyes. She looks like she's got the tears under control, though. I stand up, intending to leave them alone.

"Stay for a minute, Punk," she says, glancing at me. "Since this concerns you, too." I frown, but plant myself back in the chair. She turns back to Matt. "I love you, you idiot. And so help me, I will have Punk kick your ass if you ever do that to me again." I blink. Oh. I'm the muscle? Nice.

"I love you, too." Matt chuckles. "And I'd expect no less."

"I'd hit you, but you're hurt." She leans forward. "So yes, damn you. I'm open to Team Adorkable being back together." And then she kisses him.

Wow, this seems kind of awkward. I'm trying not to watch, but… well, they're right there. Matt finally breaks the kiss and looks over at me. "I think it's probably okay for you to go now if you want, Punk," he says, his eyes sparkling despite the concussion.

Michelle laughs and looks at me. "Yeah, sorry about that. Go hang out with your girlfriend or something."

"Thank God," I say, standing and heading for Serena and Michelle's room. "I'll be back before bedtime, so keep it PG, would you?"

"Head injury, remember?" Matt says, smirking.

"Don't remind me," Michelle says. "I'm still mad at you for it."

And with that, I make my escape from their reunion. Thank God.


	30. Epilogue: Carolina Dreaming

A/N: I don't own the Wrestlers.

Something To Believe In

Epilogue: Carolina Dreaming

Weeks pass. Matt's out from wrestling, but he comes to the shows. I kick Michelle out of the straightedge society on national TV (well, recorded TV) and she seems happy to have it happen. Her hair starts to grow back and she reteams with Layla while my feud with Rey Mysterio continues, ending with my head shaved at Over the Limit. As Michelle said when I shaved her hair, it's just hair. It'll grow back. Nevertheless, creative sticks a mask on me and turns it into a joke. I don't mind that much, even when Rey Mysterio gives me grief about my mask dependency.

About a week after Over the Limit, Matt approaches me in catering. He's grinning, but he's alone. "Punk."

"Hardy," I reply, raising my eyebrows at him.

"How's the head?"

I think of the thirteen staples and shudder. "Fine."

"Seems like one of us is always getting knocked silly these days, doesn't it?"

"Usually, it's you."

Matt chuckles. "I heard you accidentally tripped McIntyre when he was getting off the plane last night."

"Whoops?" I grin.

"So look," he says with a smile. "You seem to be more or less done with your feud for the moment and as I'm about to be at loose ends, so to speak…" I frown at him. "Oh, you hadn't heard?"

"No?"

Matt smirks. "I'm going to be 'suspended without pay' as of tonight."

"Oh. That's… um…"

Matt shrugs. "You know as well as I do that it means nothing except that I'm not wrestling tonight. But I thought you might like to come this weekend and hang out. Have some down time?"

I think back to the offer he'd made right before his injury. "Let me talk to Serena tonight. But yeah, I'll come out. I assume Michelle's coming?"

Matt chuckles. "Are you kidding? She's been bugging me for weeks. Oh, and see if Gallows wants to come, too." He holds out his hand and I take it immediately. Matt grins and shakes my hand. "See you on the other side of the show."

%

And that's how I find myself at an airport in North Carolina at the end of the week, my arm around Serena and a nervous looking Luke Gallows following us into the terminal. "Are you sure about this?" Luke asks me for what feels like the millionth time. I wonder if I was this much of a pain when Michelle dragged me down here the first time. I think back and grin. Probably.

Michelle meets us at the airport. She hugs everyone, including a surprised Luke. "Come on, let's get your bags and head out to the house."

We do the baggage claim, then pile into Michelle's rental. An SUV, of course. Her eyes sparkle as she passes me a CD. "Pop that in, would you?" she asks sweetly.

"Sure," I say. I slide the CD in and wait. Michelle shoots me a devilish grin as the song starts. I laugh.

"What are we listening to?" Gallows asks in horror.

"It sounds like Paralyzer," I say, smirking.

"It's lucky for you I rescued this CD from your rental car a few months back," Michelle tells me seriously.

"Thank God for small mercies," I agree. "So do I get it back eventually?"

"Yes, but keep in mind, if you destroy it, I'll just make you another copy."

"I have no intention of destroying it. I like this song."

Michelle laughs. "I knew it!"

Luke still looks lost and a little concerned. I hear Serena tell him, "Lighten up, it's just a song."

"And there are about nineteen more where that came from," Michelle tells us merrily.

Poor Luke. For him, it's probably a long ride.

%

By the time Smackdown airs, Luke's starting to relax. In fact, once he realizes that the weekend revolves around us guys being… well, guys, he ends up in the spirit of things. We have a tag team match against the Hardy Boyz that ends up being switched up when Matt defects and Luke ends up on Jeff's side. By the end, we're all laughing and having a great time. As predicted, the weekend is relaxing. Matt and Michelle seem happy, Serena and I are getting along, and even Luke seems less stiff and annoying than usual.

On the last night, Matt and Jeff pull together a barbeque. The late spring weather is perfect, with a beautiful sunset lighting up the sky behind us. The food's great, the Pepsi's flowing, and everyone seems to be in high spirits. In a quiet moment, Matt stands up and looks over the group. "You know," he says, "a couple of months ago, I did the stupidest thing I've ever done." We're quiet, listening as he pauses. "I told my then girlfriend's best friend that I planned to ask her to move in with me. And then I listened to a story that broke my heart. What I should have done in that moment was ask Michelle to explain it, and listened to her, but I didn't. Instead, I told her it was over." He pulls in a deep breath and closes his eyes. "And we both spent the next month miserable because I'm an idiot." He opens his eyes and looks at me, grinning. "Something Punk had no problem telling me, over and over."

I chuckle and salute him with the Pepsi can. "Always happy to help."

Matt shakes his head, grinning, then gets back to the matter at hand. "It took me getting injured to realize how stupid I'd been. Michelle, I love you, and I hate being apart from you. I was going to ask you to move in with me at Wrestlemania, but I didn't."

"I'd have said yes," she tells him.

Matt smiles and nods. "I'm glad, but… I've changed my mind." Michelle frowns at him. Then, after a glance at me and his brother, Matt drops to one knee before her and pulls out a box. "Moving in isn't enough. I want it all. Michelle McCool, will you marry me?"

For an instant, she looks bewildered. Then, a smile lights up her face. "Yes," she says.

The End.


End file.
